Chapter 247

The evil god cautioned him.

"Remember, the very last coffin."

He must not open any of the others.

* * *

Ater walked through the ruins alone.

"..."

His footsteps seemed to echo unusually loudly through the ruins.

He had spent his time learning the layout of these ruins. They held far more knowledge, and of greater depth, than he had seen when he was called a champion. Faded paintings and jewels lay scattered everywhere.

An old memory surfaced.

'... It was certainly here...'

There should be a passage.

"... Ah."

A stairway leading underground opened.

Ater clenched and unclenched his hands, then began his descent. The stairs were terribly dark. Had he not brought a torch, he would have seen nothing at all. Strangely, there was no dust.

'It feels quite unfamiliar. Perhaps because it's been so long.'

Even after recovering his senses, he had only checked where this place was, never actually ventured here. This was where he and his companions had once sacrificed everything to seal the Demon King. He had avoided even approaching it, lest a careless intrusion cause some disaster.

But now the time had come.

'It's quite deep...'

There was no end in sight.

Devices barred his way down the stairs, too. He and his companions had installed them as a precaution against unforeseen circumstances. Knowing the solutions, he undid them easily.

He had descended far enough to feel slightly suffocated when he reached it.

"... Is this the place?"

An enormous door greeted him.

'Not even a castle gate would be like this. It shows just how desperate we were.'

In truth, it hardly looked like a door at all.

There had been no other choice. Magical devices alone could not keep it sealed forever. The door had to be physically too difficult to open as well. That was why they had built it to resemble a wall.

"It's open."

The door that should have been firmly shut stood slightly ajar.

"The mages' doing...?"

Those blasphemers who had declared they would borrow the evil god's power to kill the Creator. No one else would have gone to such lengths to force this door open. Though only slightly ajar, the gap was just wide enough for one person to squeeze through.

'Could this be why he was able to emerge into the outside world, even if only in human form? Because the sealing door was open, however slightly? If so, perhaps I owe those mages a little gratitude. It was thanks to them that I escaped the prison of thorns...'

Ater stepped inside.

"..."

Candles burned throughout the saints' tomb.

"... These are still..."

It was astonishing. They were probably magical devices the mages had installed.

'If not, it must be an effect of the seal.'

Yet the candles, still crackling and throwing sparks after more years than he could count, made his stomach churn.

Perhaps thanks to them, he could clearly make out the underground tomb despite its lingering gloom.

"Ah."

Coffins stood in orderly rows.

'We never did this.'

The battle with the Demon King had been fierce. Merely sealing him had left the champions utterly exhausted. Many had died. They had lacked the strength to make such a tidy tomb for the Demon King who had claimed so many victims.

'The mages had no reason to go this far, either.'

They had aspired to become godslayers. They would never have shown such consideration to an evil god, when they would not even spare the Creator.

'Then...'

Had he done it himself?

'Arjio?'

Or was it some kind of mysterious miracle?

'I can't tell.'

But he had specifically said "the very last coffin." That meant he knew what this place looked like.

'He must have some connection to this, at least.'

Even with a torch in hand, Ater felt the chill of the underground tomb.

"..."

He started walking again.

The coffins were all the same size. Carved from jet-black marble, they were quite enormous. Larger even than Ater. They gave off the pungent scent of poison and the thick smell of blood found in the Black Forest.

'Every one of them feels ominous.'

It was nothing like seeing Arjio in human form.

He remembered his first encounter with the Demon King. Those immense wings, those human figures clumped together, that beast's torso stretching out like a snake...

Just as those memories surfaced.

"..."

"Over here."

Suddenly, a familiar voice reached him.

"Here, Ater."

"Look this way."

"Open this coffin."

It came from every direction.

"Come now, look here."

"Where are you going?"

"This way."

"Hurry and let me out."

"You came to see me, didn't you?"

"My true face."

"It's in here."

"Come, don't waste time."

"Ater."

The evil god was speaking to him from beyond the marble coffins.

"... Ha, what is..."

He faltered, backing away from the coffins.

They stood along both sides of the tomb, which stretched like a long corridor. Silent until a moment ago, they had begun to speak.

The soft, measured voice flowing from them belonged to the "Arjio" he knew.

"Why do you hesitate so?"

"Didn't you wish to speak with my true self?"

"Ater, hurry and open this door."

"Let's talk."

"That's why you came here."

Suddenly, Arjio's words came back to him.

["Remember, the very last coffin."]

He must not open any of the others.

"..."

So this was why he had said that.

'The ones speaking to me now are the saints who died before Arjio.'

Arjio had once told him that he had suppressed the wrath that would devour him with an even greater wrath. That things were as they were now because he had won.

That meant the original wrath had never been resolved.

'Unable to defeat the final personality, are they trying to tempt me now that I've entered the tomb...?'

His name rang out from all sides. A chill ran down his spine. Had the last saint, Arjio, not crushed them and locked them away, Ater could not have been alive.

'I have to reach the last coffin.'

The deeper he went, the more the gentle voices turned to shrill shouts.

"Where in the world are you going?"

"Here. I'm here."

"Look this way...!"

"Are you walking past me?!"

"Ater! Ater!!"

"Please, let me out...!!"

"It's too cramped in here! I can't breathe! It hurts!!"

"Aaaagh!! Aaaaaaagh!!!"

Screams full of despair. Frantic struggles full of pain. Howls full of wrath.

The deeper he went, the worse it grew. He could hear pounding, too, as though something were thrashing wildly inside the coffins.

It reminded him of his own confinement, which had ended only recently. He felt sick.

'Why would he leave them like this?'

Arjio had been so merciful to Ater. He had even treated him with the easy familiarity of a friend. Had he shown no mercy to the saints who preceded him? Had he felt no pity for them?

'They're suffering so much. Why...?'

When he finally reached the end, all the noise subsided.

"... Hah, haah..."

His legs gave out, and he sank to the floor.

'... It's gone quiet.'

The same stillness as when he first entered greeted him.

He barely managed to haul his trembling body upright. His legs still had no strength. Swaying, he looked at the last coffin at the end of the corridor. It looked no different from any of the others here.

'If he hadn't told me beforehand, I would never have been able to tell the difference.'

Apart from its position at the very end, there was no difference at all.

"..."

He felt something watching him from the darkness.

'... Who is it?'

Was this another part of the evil god?

He sensed something as vast as nature. It held neither disapproval nor approval. It merely seemed to watch what choice Ater would make. No, even "watch" was not the right word. It was simply aware of him.

'If I open this coffin...'

What, exactly, would happen?

"... Excuse me."

"..."

"Are you in here?"

"Have you come to see me?"

"... Yes."

"I've been waiting."

GRR scrape...

The heavy coffin lid opened a fraction.

"Will you let me out?"

Unlike the others, this coffin's occupant had opened the lid himself.

Through the gap, Ater saw a pale hand gripping the lid.

It was a familiar hand. Arjio's hand, which had cooked and served him food, had looked just like that. Strong and broad-boned. Adorned with all manner of jewelry.

Long black nails and jeweled rings clinked clearly as the hand gripped the marble lid. Only that large, pale hand was visible; he would not show his body or face.

He kept speaking.

"I've spent so long in here."

"... Who are you?"

"People called me a cruel beast."

"Arjio, is that you?"

"You may call me that."

"Are you the 'Arjio' I know?"

"My friend."

The hand slid out of the coffin.

"..."

"..."

Its arm stretched to a grotesque length.

"... Ugh."

A hideous length.

Ater stopped breathing for a moment. It resembled an enormous snake or a tree branch. The arm kept extending until it stopped right in front of his face. Then the curled hand opened.

A golden eye was embedded in its palm.

"... I know that face."

It was an eye made of gold, one that could never be called human.

"You came to kill me."

"... Are you... Arjio, before he became an evil god?"

"The being you call the evil god is also me."

"... You aren't the one who rescued me from the prison of thorns, remade me as a human, and cooked for me. You're Arjio, the evil god my companions and I sealed away."

"Did 'Arjio' show you such kindness?"

The golden eye curved as though smiling.

"It seems 'I' managed to seize a fine opportunity."

"... What are you?"

"I have no name."

The hand with the embedded eye withdrew to grip the coffin lid again. As though in high spirits, its bejeweled fingers drummed against the coffin. Ominous, beastlike nails and gleaming rings struck its surface.

"You would do well not to introduce your name and honors to us."

"... Us?"

"Wicked souls like us cannot help coveting a soul as strong as yours. Of course, I already know your name, but don't worry. I won't presume to covet you."

"... Many saints have already called my name."

"Spare me that disgusting word, 'saints.' We are evil spirits forced into sacrifice, not saints. And there is no problem with their having called your name."

"Why is that?"

"Because we are borrowing 'Arjio's' mouth."

His voice was like a song.

"He is quite merciful. He managed to contain all that wrath. He even shows kindness to an insignificant creature like you. He must have been given a fine opportunity. A very fine opportunity..."

"... Are you truly Arjio's heart?"

"I am."

"What would happen if you came out of this coffin? If I let you out?"

"Who can say?"

There was a rhythm to his voice.

"I hold a great deal of anger. My friends here hold even more. Without a miracle beyond miracles, and yet another miracle, how could something like 'Arjio' have taken shape? We were a calamity that would devour the world, yet you dare treat me as a person."

"..."

"Tell me, my friend. What do you wish for?"

"... I wish to be able to trust you completely."

"There can be no guarantee that you won't regret it."

"... That may be so..."

"Go back."

The pale hand retreated into the coffin.

"Today is not the time."

"..."

CLACK.

The coffin closed.

* * *

On his way back, one of the many coffins stopped Ater.

"He could have granted you the mercy of death, yet he brought you back to life. How is this new life you have been given salvation? He fashioned you into a human to possess you. He is an evil god. Do not trust him."

Its voice was so harsh that it did not seem to belong to "Arjio." It was also young.

"If he were truly merciful, he would have granted peace to you and all of us. Were you not sickened as you ran toward that final coffin in the depths? He bound us and imprisoned us in this deep tomb."

"..."

"An evil bondage cannot be made pure. They call him an evil god, and that is what he is. His mercy is a fragment of his interest and amusement. Do not judge a god by that tiny fragment."

"... In the end, you're only doing this because you want me to let you out of your coffin."

"How is that a sin...?"

The young voice whispered.

"You, too, called upon the evil god because you wished to escape that cramped prison."

What difference was there between them?

At that quiet whisper, Ater simply left the tomb.

(To be continued)