Chapter 63 - The Mausoleum of Moonshadow (5)
8 min read ·
“Show me you were worth the investment, Raguel.”
Leaning against a withered giant of a tree, Maphel’tan spoke through a groan. He was certainly smiling, but he hardly looked at ease. Wounds covered his body. His wings resembled tattered rags, and the carapace covering his skin was cracked in places.
Thoroughly flustered, Raguel began to babble.
“W-worth the investment? What do you... More importantly, are you really Yohan—no, Maphel’tan? What are all these wounds? What on earth is happening?!”
He was utterly bewildered. Every piece of information entering his eyes sent his mind spinning. The bizarre gray forest, the hideous Demon before him... Reality looked far more like fiction than anything he had imagined while blind. The world he was seeing for the first time in months had parted ways with common sense entirely.
Maphel’tan spoke with difficulty.
“I don’t have time to explain twice, so listen carefully. You’ve probably guessed as much, but you’re no longer human. You belong to a race called elves—a High Elf, to be precise. You’ve been reborn as the only being of your kind in this world.”
Raguel murmured softly.
“E-elves.”
“Yes, elves. The word is probably unfamiliar to you.”
For five hundred years, the Church had steadily erased information about the thirteen forgotten races. By the present era, almost no records of them remained. Only the race known as witches still appeared in popular tales.
Raguel spoke.
“I’ve never heard of them before. But somehow...”
“You feel as though you know their very nature?”
“Yes. I was dreaming about elves until just now.”
A trace of sorrow crossed his face.
Maphel’tan spoke.
“Good. That will save us some explaining.”
Just as in the original novel, consuming the World Tree’s seed apparently meant absorbing the elves’ memories and emotions as well. Someone else—a member of a collateral branch of House Miyatro—had swallowed the seed in the original novel, but the results were the same.
Tension crept into Raguel’s expression.
“It sounds like you have something for me to do.”
Maphel’tan nodded.
“If you agree, you’ll be undertaking many tasks with me from now on. Of course, we need to deal with the immediate crisis first.”
Raguel regarded him with a rather serious expression, his jade-green eyes shining with an unspoiled light.
“By tasks, do you mean wiping out humanity?”
He had learned of the countless atrocities humans had committed against elves. Burning forests, elves dragged away as slaves, endless abuse and exploitation. Having witnessed such scenes, he could not help but feel loathing for humans well up inside him.
Maphel’tan’s expression grew somber.
“Raguel, do you wish every human would disappear?”
Raguel lowered his head.
“... No, I don’t.”
Though he had witnessed human cruelty firsthand, he had not succumbed to such extreme thinking. Not all humans were evil. Many pursued goodness. Through his reading, Raguel had encountered plenty of stories of nobility, too.
Maphel’tan spoke.
“Neither do I. I have no intention of killing all humans.”
“Then what will we do together? An elf who loathes humans and an Apostle of the End?”
A familiar voice suddenly cut in from somewhere.
“Do not leave me out—the Hellfire of the Abyss!”
Zal’karin popped out from against Maphel’tan’s chest. Raguel’s eyes widened.
“D-don’t tell me you’re Zal’karin?”
This was his first time seeing Zal’karin. The red ball of fur that was the imp wore a smug expression.
“Surprised? Well, what do you think of my august person?”
Raguel marveled with utter innocence.
“You’re much smaller than I imagined. So puny and cute.”
Zal’karin’s face flushed scarlet.
“W-what?! Puny?! How dare you!”
Maphel’tan scowled.
“Does this look like the time for idle chatter?”
His voice was cold and low. Zal’karin could not continue his tirade.
“M-my apologies. I was thoughtless.”
Raguel scratched his head.
“I got carried away by the novelty... I’m sorry.”
Maphel’tan clicked his tongue.
“Let’s finish our conversation. Raguel, you asked what we would be doing together?”
“Yes, that’s right. If we aren’t going to destroy humanity, what are an elf and an Apostle going to do together?”
Elves wanted revenge against humans. While Raguel had not fully absorbed their emotions as his own, he certainly felt disillusioned with humanity. Apostles were beings who clamored for humanity’s end from their very inception. With those two together, there could be only one task: the extermination of humankind. Yet Maphel’tan kept denying it.
Maphel’tan spoke.
“Ensure humanity survives, and beyond that, prevent the end of the world. That is what you and I will do.”
Puzzlement spread across Raguel’s face.
“I don’t understand. You’re a Demon.”
A Demon protecting the world? There could be no greater contradiction.
“Have you forgotten? Red blood flows in my veins, too.”
He was a half-demon.
“... That’s true.”
Raguel did not look entirely convinced.
“You are the first step in my plan, Raguel. Beginning with you, I intend to restore all the other races as well. I need your strength, and theirs. It may sound vague for now, but I would like you to trust me and follow my lead.”
In short, he was demanding blind support.
Raguel’s expression settled into quiet composure.
“As I told you before, I don’t have another choice. Now that I’ve become an elf, an ordinary life is even further out of reach. Somehow, the path you offer has become my life. I’ll trust you and follow you, so please don’t betray that trust.”
He had already fallen under the Demon’s spell. There was no turning back now.
Maphel’tan answered with equal seriousness.
“I promise. We will bring no harm to this world. So take my hand. Bound by an eternal pact, we will forge a new destiny.”
Pitch-black demonic energy had gathered in his hand. Raguel gulped.
“D-don’t tell me...”
“A contract of subjugation. Raguel, will you serve me?”
A contract of subjugation was entirely different from an ordinary contract with a Demon. Where a contract with a Demon took the form of a transaction in which both parties paid a price, a contract of subjugation demanded one-sided devotion. The moment he entered into it, Raguel would become Maphel’tan’s servant. Just like Grian and Zal’karin.
Conflict clouded Raguel’s face. Even if he trusted Maphel’tan, a contract of subjugation was not something he could readily accept.
Zal’karin, who had been listening, spoke.
“Boy, you may not realize this, but countless evil spirits are after our lives right now. To resolve this situation, we need a ‘bond’ between you, a High Elf, and Lord Maphel’tan, the great End. Enter the End’s embrace. I am his right hand, so I shall let you have the left.”
Raguel glanced at Maphel’tan, asking with his eyes whether it was true. Maphel’tan shrugged.
“Well, he isn’t wrong, but I won’t force you. I’ll respect whatever choice you make.”
There was a fallback even if he refused. Still, Maphel’tan wanted to use this opportunity to bind Raguel to him completely. So that he could never escape.
Taking the hint, Zal’karin spoke again.
“The End truly cherishes you. Don’t you want to repay him?”
Raguel lowered his head, his clenched fists trembling. A long while passed before he spoke.
“... This is my choice.”
Zal’karin replied.
“I hope it is a wise one.”
“It has nothing to do with you! You haven’t swayed me with your words.”
Raguel glared at him. Zal’karin flinched.
“A-ahem. So, your decision?”
At that moment, Raguel took Maphel’tan’s hand.
“Maphel’tan, I’ll stand with you.”
The corners of Maphel’tan’s mouth lifted. The gathered demonic energy surged upward, and black mist enveloped them both. An unwritten law was being etched into Raguel’s soul.
An eerie voice echoed through the pitch-black darkness.
“Raguel, I demand blind faith and unconditional loyalty from you. Do you accept?”
Raguel answered in a trembling voice.
“... I accept.”
All the billowing demonic energy seeped into Raguel’s body. A Demon’s brand began to mark the noble High Elf. A scythe-bearing fiend—Maphel’tan’s emblem had appeared in Raguel’s left eye. He was now an Apostle’s servant.
Maphel’tan spoke.
“You will never regret this choice. Now, I’ll tell you what you must do.”
* * *
In that dead wasteland, a single being held life within him. A boy walked alone through the ashen woods. His hair scattered amber light like ripe barley, and his eyes were more pristine than a clear, deep lake.
Wherever he trod, life breathed anew. Withered flowers and plants regained their green breath. The harsh conditions soon withered that green back into nothingness, but nature was unmistakably responding to the High Elf.
To Raguel, every part of the scene was both new and heartbreaking.
“... They’re all crying.”
Every living thing in the mausoleum screamed. To the High Elf, their cries were painfully vivid.
“Getting sentimental now that you fancy yourself an elf?”
Zal’karin poked his head out from Raguel’s clothes.
“You don’t know anything.”
“Hmph. Nor do I care to. I have only one concern: whether you can carry out your mission. That alone matters to me.”
Raguel now had to carry out his first order from Maphel’tan. Anxiety crept into his face.
“... It’ll work out.”
“Yes, all you need to do is what the End told you. Don’t be so nervous.”
Raguel stopped short. A pure white curtain stretched before him: a holy barrier erected to buy time. Cracks and fissures covered its surface. It would shatter soon.
Raguel broke into a cold sweat.
“They’re on the other side, then.”
All manner of noises assailed him from beyond the barrier. Scratching, pounding, hammering. Horrible screams mingled with them in a bizarre harmony.
Zal’karin spoke.
“Yes. I’ll hide again for now. May fortune favor you.”
He burrowed back inside Raguel’s clothes.
“Y-you coward!”
Raguel felt as though he had been left alone.
He steadied himself with deep breaths and stared at the barrier. Its surface was now completely buckled. Raguel backed away, and at that moment, the barrier shattered with a crash.
Horrific shrieks shook heaven and earth. Countless horrors were engulfing the surroundings.
“Horned spirit! Find him!”
“Where are you hiding?!”
“We’ll tear you to pieces and use you to nourish Mother!”
Resentment and fury toward Maphel’tan echoed throughout the mausoleum. Every horror began to charge. Raguel stood frozen in a daze.
Zal’karin shouted from inside his clothes.
“You idiot! Are you just going to stand there and watch?!”
Only then did Raguel come to his senses. He shouted with all his strength.
“I’m the one who plucked and ate the fruit!”
Every baleful gaze fixed on Raguel at once.
“S-so talk to me...”
He gulped.