Chapter 55 - Maphel’tan (2)

Zal’karin’s reading echoed softly through the dark underground study. As the designated reader, he spent the entire day reading books to Raguel.

He was more diligent about his duties than expected. He could hardly neglect his assigned role—not when an Apostle had entrusted it to him.

“Keep your voice down. You’re too loud.”

Maphel’tan leaned against a bookcase, staring into the full-length mirror. He was locked in a staring contest with the image of “Yohan” reflected in it.

“S-sorry! I shall read quietly.”

Zal’karin’s voice grew noticeably quieter, and Yohan returned to his thoughts.

‘A Book of Doom in the shape of a mirror.’

The Book of Doom he had received from Kaiaze took the form of a full-length mirror. A few questions about it circled in his mind.

Why a mirror, of all things? And why did it reflect “Yohan,” when “Maphel’tan” was currently a Demon?

After a little thought, he suddenly recalled Kaiaze’s advice.

[“The Book of Doom represents its owner’s identity.”]

Maphel’tan gazed quietly at Yohan in the mirror.

‘My essence is still human. Is that what this means?’

The gulf between human and Demon. Perhaps the moment that boundary blurred, Maphel’tan would appear in the mirror instead of Yohan.

‘A fairly intuitive feature.’

From now on, he could use the mirror to reflect on himself. He found that reasonably satisfying.

Of course, there were things he disliked, too. His gaze shifted to the top of the Book of Doom.

‘... Hmm.’

Words were inscribed on the mirror.

『 All evil, let us sing. The first incantation of the End is Maphel’tan. Let hypocrites fall silent before that name. Break your tongues, and swallow blood instead of words. Your god will not listen anyway. 』

The writing Demon had composed the passage without permission. The same words had probably been inscribed in every Book of Doom in the world, since anything written in an original was transmitted verbatim to every copy.

Maphel’tan found this rather displeasing. The name “Maphel’tan” had been revealed to the world without his consent. Important secrets might be leaked the same way in the future.

He needed to address this immediately. He spoke in a low voice.

“Do not activate the Book of Doom without my permission. This is your first and last warning.”

A pitch-black fairy slipped out of the clear mirror. Its wings drooped as it bowed its head to Maphel’tan.

It seemed to understand. He waved it away impatiently, and the fairy disappeared back into the mirror.

‘That should do it.’

Now it was time to examine his new powers. He closed his eyes, and red text filled his vision.

Contract with a Demon, Nightmare Spirit, Soul Slaying, Soul-Fueled Restoration, Words of Command.

Soul-Fueled Restoration and Words of Command were the new additions. He had gained the former upon absorbing the Book of Doom into his body, and the latter as a consequence of corrupting the holy spear Espada.

First, Soul-Fueled Restoration. Its use was already engraved in his instincts.

‘Whittle away the soul to restore the body.’

In short, it was a power related to physical regeneration. Soul-Fueled Restoration was probably what had allowed him to survive being impaled by the holy spear Espada. That was the gist of it.

One thing bothered him.

‘Whittle away the soul.’

Like a law of equivalent exchange, it meant consuming his soul whenever he regenerated his flesh. If he got reckless and relied on his healing, he might end up a soulless husk.

Maphel’tan looked down at his chest. A secondary effect of Soul Slaying allowed him to see his targets’ souls. Naturally, he could sense his own as well.

A hazy shimmer wavered inside his pitch-black body.

‘... It’s definitely smaller.’

That must have been the cost of healing the holy spear’s wounds.

‘I’ll use it as sparingly as possible.’

With that resolve, he turned his attention to Words of Command.

It seemed intuitive, yet was bound by abstract conditions. Through speech, it imposed compulsion on another being. Of course, the target had to be inferior to the power’s wielder.

For example, Maphel’tan could not inscribe Words of Command upon Garnish. The command he had issued in anger earlier had probably failed.

There were several other conditions, too. He would need to experiment before he became familiar with its use. An opportunity would come along soon enough.

Last of all, he drew the fell spear Turabak. Whatever else he had gained, Turabak was surely the greatest reward for all the shit he had been through.

The treasure that had once burned away evil was now corrupted, transformed into a spectral spear that left humans with eternal wounds. A human pierced by it even once would rarely survive.

It would be extremely useful. The corners of his mouth lifted.

What would Gawain’s face look like when he saw Turabak? Maphel’tan shook his head at the mischievous thought.

‘Now I really do sound like a Demon.’

He promptly dismissed the thought. With everything more or less sorted out, it was time to get moving.

“Ilea, are you there?”

Ilea walked slowly out from behind a bookcase, a book in her hand. Probably a forbidden text concerning Garnish.

“You called?”

“There’s something I need to discuss.”

“Hearing that out of nowhere makes me nervous.”

Whenever he said something like this, Maphel’tan followed it with a proposal beyond imagining. Something along the lines of, “Let’s steal a fragment of the Great Saint’s body.”

He spoke.

“I need to visit the Abyss.”

Ilea tilted her head.

“You mean you’ll go yourself, Yohan... I mean, Maphel’tan?”

“Yes. I have a reason to go now.”

Doubt crossed Ilea’s face.

“For the record, I’m against it. But I’d like to hear your reason.”

The Abyss was still far too dangerous for both Yohan and Maphel’tan.

“As you know, every eye in the kingdom is on the south.”

Frankly, the pressure was enormous. Unless he resolved the situation quickly, he would find himself in serious trouble one way or another.

“You intend to use the Abyss to divert their attention?”

Maphel’tan nodded.

“You catch on quickly. Exactly.”

“I understand the general idea, but that doesn’t change my mind. The Abyss is too dangerous. You might manage as Maphel’tan, but in Yohan’s body, you’ll struggle even to breathe.”

The Abyss was saturated with lethally toxic demonic energy. Even the First Zone, the least threatening of them, was filled with baleful energy. An ordinary human could not survive there.

Maphel’tan spoke evenly.

“What if I won’t be turning back into Yohan for a while?”

To balance the scales of equivalence, he had to live as a Demon for the time being.

“What do you mean?”

“Garnish told me. Something about the scales of equivalence.”

Yohan briefly relayed what Garnish had told him. Once she had heard it all, Ilea spoke.

“If that’s true, then this certainly is the right time to visit the Abyss.”

The gate to the Abyss opened only at the full moon. In this world, full moons came roughly two weeks apart, so anyone who entered the Abyss would be unable to leave for two weeks.

Normally, Maphel’tan would have had to endure half those two weeks in a human body. Only now was it different. He could spend his entire stay in the Abyss as a Demon.

Maphel’tan spoke.

“So you agree.”

“Only as far as the First Zone. No farther.”

“I’m not an idiot. I only intended to descend to the First Zone in the first place.”

Certain death lurked in the zones beyond it.

“All right. When do we leave?”

“Tomorrow evening. Give me the key to the Abyss first.”

Ilea had the key. She had yet to return it to him after descending into the First Zone to obtain World Tree sap.

Puzzlement crossed her face.

“Don’t tell me I’m not coming?”

If they were going together, he would have no reason to ask for the key.

“There’s something else I need you to do. You’ll have to carry the explosion in the Abyss straight to the kingdom.”

If they succeeded, all the eyes watching the south would be diverted. Ilea had a crucial role to play.

“You really are impossible.”

“I’m counting on you. We’ll discuss the details in the morning.”

Before leaving for the Abyss, Maphel’tan had unfinished business. Maira and Kembel. He needed to deal with the two knights.

As he made to leave the study, Ilea murmured,

“I haven’t even agreed to help yet.”

Not hearing her, he spoke as though something had just occurred to him.

“Oh, right. Raguel and Zal’karin are coming too. Ilea, I’ll leave their preparations to you.”

Raguel hiccupped in alarm.

“M-me? In the Abyss?”

He had been listening to everything.

“I think it’s time I fulfilled our contract.”

His promise to restore Raguel’s sight. He could not put it off forever.

Raguel gave no response, apparently caught in conflicting emotions. Instead, Zal’karin cried out excitedly.

“O great End! This wicked creature shall live up to your expectations!”

For a Demon, the Abyss was paradise. A petty spirit would grow stronger merely by breathing there.

Maphel’tan started walking again.

“Anyway, be ready, both of you. We leave tomorrow evening without delay.”

He left the study at once. Ilea looked toward the stairs and let out a short sigh.

* * *

A sharp blade cleaved the mantle of night in two, tracing a clear, straight horizontal path. Moonlight caught the flying beads of sweat before scattering with them.

Alone on the empty training ground, Gaf swung his sword, trying to clear his mind.

‘Damn it.’

No matter how much he moved, the thoughts would not leave him. The tip of his sword only continued to waver.

He threw the sword to the ground and lay flat on his back.

“You damned half-demon. What the hell are you?”

Stars studded the night sky. Beside them shone a moon not quite full.

“Great Saint, please answer me. What is he?”

No answer came. Only a mocking laugh sounded in the distance.

“Why all the self-pity in the middle of the night?”

Gaf immediately sat up. A silhouette darker than the night was approaching him. Blood-red eyes gleamed in the darkness.

Gaf spoke.

“... Wandering openly around the castle now, are you? Not a shred of caution.”

“Then excuse me for a moment.”

Maphel’tan stood facing him and clamped his black hands onto Gaf’s shoulders. At the same time, enormous wings spread to either side.

Before Gaf could resist, Maphel’tan shot upward. In the blink of an eye, the two of them hung in the night sky.

Gaf’s face twisted with anger and alarm.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Letting Gaf dangle beneath him, Maphel’tan said,

“We’re going to deal with the Count’s knights. Show me the way.”

He was handling Gaf like an object. Fury welled up in the mercenary, and he thrashed wildly in midair.

“You damned Demon! Put me down!”

Maphel’tan paid him no mind.

“You’ll die if you fall, you know. Even the Lion of the East would.”

Lions had no wings.

“I’ll tear you apart, you half-breed bastard! You really are a Demon!”

Maphel’tan chuckled.

“What, did you think I was human?”

Gaf’s anger became a special treat for Maphel’tan. He could not afford to forgo even these little scraps of experience.

“One day, I’ll tear you apart with my own hands!”

“I look forward to it.”

A pitch-black shape streaked across the night sky.