Chapter 58 - Bound for the Abyss

In the lord’s castle’s underground study, Maphel’tan wore a satisfied smile. Persuading Raguel had been easier than expected.

‘I thought he’d put up quite a fight, but he’s going along with it surprisingly readily.’

He had asked Raguel to abandon his identity. It was hardly something one could readily agree to, yet Raguel had accepted his proposal with little resistance.

The reason was simple. To the lonely blind boy, Maphel’tan must have been the light of his life, his only hope. Refusing a request from someone like that would have been difficult.

Once his thoughts reached that point, an unwelcome sense of self-loathing stirred within him.

‘I’m taking full advantage of a kid who has nowhere else to turn.’

Playing a Demon made him feel as though he really were becoming one to the bone. Even rationalizing it as part of his preparations for the apocalypse did nothing to dispel his unease.

His smile faded, and he clicked his tongue. Ilea, who had been watching him, spoke.

“Maphel’tan, there’s something I’d like to ask.”

Her expression was more subdued than usual.

“Ask.”

“Why are you so determined to go through with this when it troubles you so much?”

Maphel’tan intended to have Raguel reborn as one of the forgotten races. His ostensible reason was clear.

“Because I must restore Raguel’s sight, as our contract requires.”

The moment Raguel gained a new body, he would no longer be blind. Ilea shook her head.

“That sounds like nothing more than a hollow excuse.”

There were few ways to heal Raguel’s eyes, but even among those limited options, Maphel’tan’s choice was one of the most dangerously reckless. It could fairly be called a bad move.

The forgotten ancient races were shadows of history, bearing the full weight of the world’s dark side. The moment even one of those extinct races was restored and revealed to the world, another dark age would begin.

At the very least, Raguel and House Miyatro would never survive. Not just the kingdom, but the Empire and the Holy Kingdom would take action.

Naturally, Ilea, a witch, would struggle to escape the repercussions as well. She too belonged to one of the forgotten ancient races. Taken together, these circumstances meant the plan to reincarnate Raguel would do more harm than good.

Maphel’tan conceded the point calmly.

“... A hollow excuse. Well, you aren’t wrong. As you say, I do have another reason.”

He could hardly keep insisting that he had no ulterior motive. What he intended to do would inevitably affect Ilea, and she had already realized he had another purpose. For the sake of their relationship going forward, honesty was the better choice.

“Would you tell me what that real reason is?”

Her blue eyes seemed to pierce right through him. Maphel’tan nodded.

“This may be a very long story. Give me a moment. I need time to gather my thoughts.”

A faint smile settled over Ilea’s face. She spoke gently.

“Take your time. We have plenty of time before the full moon.”

Once their conversation ended, Maphel’tan would head for the Abyss. He needed Ilea’s help with what he intended to do there, and it seemed she would decide whether to cooperate based on what she was about to hear.

‘In short, she wants me to convince her.’

Where should he begin? He felt rather at a loss. He needed to explain the approaching apocalypse, how to prepare for it, and the plans he had laid out. The problem was what would come after he had explained everything.

Inevitably, one fundamental question would remain. What grounds did he have for being so certain of future events? A question like that was bound to follow.

There was only one answer. He had come from another world and possessed this body; he was a reader who had read the entire course of events in a novel.

It was a truth he could scarcely bring himself to speak aloud. Yet lying his way out of it seemed dubious too.

If the original novel’s portrayal held true, almost no one could deceive Ilea. A witch’s uncanny sixth sense would eventually detect any falsehood. In effect, only the truth could persuade her.

Maphel’tan swallowed a groan. How would Ilea react once she had heard it all? He could scarcely imagine. However hard he racked his brain, only negative outcomes came to mind.

He shook off the thoughts spiraling through his head.

‘Let’s think about this more positively.’

What if Ilea accepted everything he told her? They could share all their information from then on. With the witch’s strategic mind to help him, preparing for the apocalypse might become far easier.

His chances of survival would rise markedly. The payoff was clear.

‘Is it worth a try?’

Just as his thoughts turned rosy, his expression contorted.

His heart began pounding madly. Pitch-black demonic energy surged from his entire body, and his red eyes flickered rapidly.

Ilea looked bewildered by the sudden, bizarre phenomenon.

“... Maphel’tan?”

At that instant, black blood spewed from his mouth. Clutching his chest over his heart, he dropped to one knee.

Agonizing pain tore through his entire body. He truly felt as though he would swell up and burst.

Despite the suddenness and utter disorientation, Maphel’tan instinctively understood the cause of this pain.

“Ghh, uuurgh.”

Someone was warning him not even to think of revealing his identity. It was only a warning for now, but the moment he revealed that he had possessed this body, he would die.

It was what they called an interdiction. That damned interdiction blocked his path at every turn. Fury welled up inside him.

“... You fucking bastard. What do you want from me?”

A groan escaped him as though he were swallowing boiling water. Black blood kept gushing from his mouth.

Ilea immediately moved to support him. She could not hide her distress in the slightest; her blue eyes trembled.

“Maphel’tan, are you all right? Stay with me!”

The light slowly faded from his red eyes.

“Why did you bring me here...”

He could not finish. An overwhelming drowsiness swept over him, and he lost consciousness completely in Ilea’s arms.

* * *

His surroundings brightened into a pale haze. A soft radiance flowed beyond his blurred vision, each strand of light like moonlight.

There was beauty in those restrained hues, an intensity that held his gaze. He stared blankly at the silver waves.

“Maphel’tan, are you coming around?”

A familiar, lovely voice reached his ears. His reason snapped awake.

The radiance flowing before his eyes was none other than Ilea’s silver hair. She was gazing at him with her deep-blue eyes.

Maphel’tan immediately sat up.

“... How much time has passed?”

Apparently, he had been unconscious with his head resting in Ilea’s lap.

“Only about three hours.”

“Good. I won’t be late.”

The full moon would rise soon. He had to time his arrival correctly to enter the Abyss. If that absurd complication had made him miss his chance, the frustration might actually have made him ill.

“You intend to descend into the Abyss in that condition? I think you’d be better off postponing the visit.”

Concern colored Ilea’s voice. Maphel’tan shook his head firmly.

“As you know, this is my only chance.”

Because of the scales of equivalence, he would remain a Demon for the time being. He would not turn human even during the day. It was the ideal condition for visiting the Abyss, since he no longer had to bear the risk of being the frail Yohan.

This was an opportunity he had to use. Ilea let out a long sigh.

“I doubt you’d listen even if I objected. Even though your life isn’t yours alone.”

If Maphel’tan died, their contract would cause Ilea to die as well. In other words, he was endangering her life too. He swallowed a groan.

“I’m sorry. There’s nothing else I can say.”

“Never mind. It’s hardly the first time. Just take care of yourself.”

Maphel’tan gave her a puzzled look.

“... That’s all?”

The sudden interdiction had left their conversation unfinished. Ilea spoke as though it were no great matter.

“Yes. I’ve finished all the preparations too.”

She pointed toward the middle of the study. Raguel and Zal’karin sat at the round table, each wearing a backpack. The packs presumably held supplies they would need in the Abyss.

Maphel’tan spoke.

“I thought you weren’t going to help.”

“No. I was simply curious why you wanted to reincarnate the younger master as an ancient race. Though I won’t be hearing the answer now.”

In trying to answer her, Maphel’tan had coughed up blood and collapsed. An interdiction had caused it, and with one involved, further conversation was pointless. Ilea knew that well, so she asked no more questions.

Maphel’tan was not entirely comfortable with that.

‘... Leaving like this doesn’t sit right with me.’

He wanted to help Ilea understand, even a little. Lately, she had been helping him on blind faith, leaving him increasingly apologetic and uncomfortable.

‘I’ll explain it, even if I have to talk around it.’

He intended to skirt the interdiction as best he could. Slowly, he began to speak.

“As I am now, I cannot answer all your questions. But there is one thing I can say with certainty. Everything I have done, and everything I will do, serves a just cause that will benefit everyone in this world. This is no exception. I intend to restore all twelve forgotten races, and in time, the outcome will align to a considerable extent with your interests as well.”

He rested a hand on Ilea’s shoulder, then added,

“That is all I can tell you.”

Ilea considered his words for a brief moment. Then her eyes softened in a smile.

“I’ll let that suffice for now.”

He could not know her true thoughts, but she seemed willing to let it pass for now. Maphel’tan cleared his throat and spoke.

“Then let me explain your role.”

Ilea would not accompany him into the Abyss. She had a separate task: bringing the explosion that would erupt there to the kingdom. If she succeeded, all the attention focused on the south would scatter.

For Maphel’tan, this trip to the Abyss would kill three birds with one stone. He could fulfill his contract with Raguel, prepare for the apocalypse late in the story, and escape the Church’s scrutiny. All three goals were within reach.

Ilea spoke.

“I already know my role. There’s no need to explain.”

“Did I tell you?”

“You gave me a hint last night. I just need to teleport ‘them’ from the First Zone to the royal capital, correct?”

Before leaving to deal with Kembel, Maphel’tan had briefly mentioned his plan. From that small hint, Ilea had deduced her role on her own.

‘She really is capable.’

Maphel’tan nodded.

“I’ll leave it in your hands.”

“Don’t worry about things here. Just take care of yourself. And please don’t forget.”

“Forget what?”

Ilea placed a hand on his chest.

“That you are my heart.”

Her voice was soft and low. Maphel’tan stepped back without realizing it. It left him feeling rather strange.

Zal’karin, who had been watching, shouted.

“Oh, witch! Are you quoting a line from ‘The Loves of the Holy Heroes’?”

As Raguel’s reader, Zal’karin had read him a romance novel the previous night. Apparently, Ilea had listened in beside them.

Raguel spoke hesitantly.

“Y-you two are like the main characters in a novel. You make a lovely couple!”

Ilea’s eyes curved into a playful smile.

“You heard him, Maphel’tan.”

“... Nonsense at every opportunity.”

Ilea took another step toward him, a mischievous smile on her face.

“Don’t tell me you’re embarrassed?”

Maphel’tan pushed her forehead back with the tip of his index finger.

“There’s no time for this. We should get moving.”

Ilea was still smiling brightly. Ignoring her, Maphel’tan looked toward the round table.

“You two, get ready now.”

The full moon was approaching. Anticipation filled Zal’karin’s face, while tension showed on Raguel’s.

Maphel’tan approached Raguel and spoke.

“Afraid?”

“A-a little.”

“Then I’ll give you a flight.”

He scooped Raguel up in an instant.

“W-wait! This is what scares me most!”

“What else can we do? We can’t walk all the way to the Abyss.”

Maphel’tan slowly rose into the air. Zal’karin promptly clung to Raguel and shouted.

“The great End makes his entrance into the Abyss! This shall truly be a historic day!”

Ilea waved from the ground.

“Have a safe trip.”

Maphel’tan nodded and soared into the sky. He left the lord’s castle and raced through the air.

His destination was the First Zone of the Abyss: the Mausoleum of Moonshadow.

Beneath the full moon, beings who hated the moon and envied humans would be writhing in fits, screaming madly for their coffin lids to be opened.

Maphel’tan intended to dig up their graves.