Ch.84Cannibalism (5)

In this world of Grim Darker, there are no gods.

At least, they don’t exist in this world right now.

I found that peculiar from the moment I first learned it.

Weren’t priests and deities supposed to be a given in fantasy settings?

But in Grim Darker, gods didn’t exist, and the healing miracles typically performed by clergy were instead embedded in magic and magical item creation.

And even that was such basic-level magic that it didn’t require specialized schools.

It was magic so simple that anyone could use it, unless they were warriors who used mana for physical enhancement and techniques.

So while playing the game, I never had reason to think about gods or priests.

Something else had already filled that void.

They were called Transcendents.

Though they were all called Transcendents, they weren’t friendly enough to be lumped together.

Quite the opposite, in fact. Some were antagonistic toward each other, and most maintained a cold distance.

Above all, their exact numbers weren’t even properly tallied.

The commonly known Transcendents were typically five in number. But that didn’t mean there were only five Transcendents.

I doubt anyone knows the exact count.

And that’s not all. The list of those five would change depending on the region.

“The Star” was usually included, but the other four would be completely different.

People didn’t know exactly how many Transcendents existed or what kinds there were.

The reason was obvious.

Transcendents were defined as transcendental beings originating from outside this world, from the outer cosmos.

In other words, they could be called outer gods.

These outer gods all wanted different things, and their reasons for selecting and contracting with humans varied.

Moreover, many contractors didn’t even know they were contractors.

Unless it was “The Star,” who openly revealed its identity and could communicate with humans to some extent, a being’s status as a Transcendent might only be discovered much later.

I suspected that this entity, both “Hungry Beast” and “Mother,” was also a Transcendent.

Especially since “Father,” the presumed source of power for the Mourners, was also thought to be a Transcendent.

“Transcendent.”

Isla repeats my words. She clung to me with her usual expressionless face.

With her tail wrapped around my arm and her chin resting on my shoulder, she blinked.

Isla was tall for a medieval woman, though not as tall as my sister. She was someone who could rest her chin on my shoulder if she had something to stand on.

Her proximity meant her unique scent tickled my nose.

“Transcendent… it’s possible.”

Melody was looking at Isla and me with a sour expression.

I wasn’t sure what she found distasteful.

“They say there are probably hundreds of Transcendents in the world that people don’t know about.”

Melody’s subsequent statement was true.

Even the Empire couldn’t properly regulate those who falsely claimed to be contractors, so they just left them be.

And with a little thought, it’s easy to see why that had to be the case.

Even the medieval people of Grim Darker knew that the universe beyond this world was vast.

It was information confirmed by the most famous Transcendent, The Star.

No one thought The Star would lie, so it was common sense to accept that countless Transcendents existed in the vast universe.

Bluntly put, it wouldn’t be strange if someone suddenly claimed they’d been chosen by a space battleship Transcendent wandering the cosmos to be its captain, or that they’d made a deal with Cosmic Death to become a contractor.

There was no way to verify claims about being a contractor for a new type of Transcendent.

It was natural, since there was no way to verify even claims about contracts with well-known Transcendents.

And what if a contractor got angry during questioning and unleashed their power?

That would be a catastrophe. The Empire had already suffered through such contractors like a case of measles.

And as with serious illnesses, immunity develops after recovery.

The Empire had long since decided to take a hands-off approach to Transcendents and their contractors.

It wasn’t that contractors gained unlimited power; rather, the Empire tended not to consider contractor status when judging individuals.

Contractors could become law enforcement judges, mercenaries, and hold all sorts of public offices.

In Grim Darker’s world, where power logic came first, the existence of contractors who could easily gain strong powers couldn’t be ignored.

So it wouldn’t be strange if “Mother” was a Transcendent.

Even if her methods differed somewhat from other Transcendents, it wouldn’t be a problem to consider her one.

Transcendents already occupied a position similar to gods in Grim Darker.

The difference might be that while gods were objects of worship and faith, Transcendents were objects of transaction and awe.

“Usually transaction and awe don’t go together.”

Despite saying that, Melody didn’t deny my point.

Beings who receive awe for their power but are simultaneously transaction partners.

From that perspective, “Mother” seemed like a Transcendent.

Perhaps the price was the killing and devouring of sentient beings? As I pondered this, Isla spoke.

“In the Frost Trackers, we’ve worshipped the ‘Hungry Beast’ for a long time.”

Though her statement came abruptly, both Melody and I turned to listen attentively.

“After hunting, we had to leave a portion as an offering to Her, and later we had to eat those offerings ourselves.”

“Devouring, killing. That feels somewhat right. Do you know how long this has been going on?”

At Melody’s question, Isla stared blankly in silence.

“…Isla?”

“I think it’s been that way from the beginning.”

Was she thinking it over? Melody looked troubled, perhaps still unfamiliar with Isla’s minimal facial expressions.

“What do you think?”

Melody asked me. Did she instinctively assume I knew something more?

Maybe she was just asking for my opinion, but the timing was good.

I recalled what Ortemilia had told me.

“There’s an alchemist named Ortemilia.”

“…An alchemist?”

They must know each other. Seeing Melody frown, I nodded in confirmation.

“What does that drug dealer have to—”

“Something happened. Now she’s a potential ally. Emphasis on potential.”

“…I hope you’re proceeding wisely, Luwellin.”

“Thank you for your concern. Anyway.”

I recalled what Ortemilia had said.

“She told me that the Three Clans decided to accept the Frost Trackers tribe—Isla’s tribe—as one of their clans.”

“The Three Clans?”

“Yes, they accepted them because they were Father’s creation, a product of Father’s intervention in the creation process.”

This was information that made both Melody and even Isla tilt their heads. It couldn’t be helped.

Even Isla seemed to have forgotten this, as her expression grew serious, prompting Melody to speak.

“But from what’s written here and from Isla’s story, the tribe seems to be…”

“Created by ‘Mother,’ right?”

Melody’s hand traced over the parchment she had transcribed.

It contained an oral tradition.

A story about brothers who went hunting to save their tribe, and ultimately, one devoured the other in a snowstorm, receiving the blessing of the Hungry Beast to become a better hunter and save the tribe.

Something felt ominous.

The two testimonies contradicted each other.

“Mother” created them, but the Three Clans claimed they were “Father’s” product.

I recalled a phrase I had seen before.

A short passage in flavor text.

Did it say Father was alone and whole, or that he created everything alone?

It was inscribed on the ring that had turned Lorian into a woman.

Recalling that phrase, several hypotheses came to mind.

The hypothesis that Father and Mother were essentially the same being, existing as different aspects.

Or that, just as the Three Clans accepted the Frost Trackers tribe, Mother’s power was derived from Father.

And the final hypothesis, unlike the previous two, was based on personal experience and feeling rather than logical reasoning.

It was closer to personal intuition than logical deduction.

I felt the power coiling inside my clenched fist.

Named “Mortal End.”

This was a technique forged from experiences gained while wandering between life and death.

It was a technique that intuitively sensed the connection between spirit and flesh and destroyed it by interfering with that connection.

The closer my death and the opponent’s death, the more powerful it becomes.

But now, in this situation, I had this thought:

Is this truly a technique gained through Father’s influence?

Is this really the domain of “that Transcendent” who creates life and manifests through the overflowing vitality of Mourners?

What came to mind, like a snake eating its tail, was yesterday’s subjugation.

The experience where my frenzy revealed itself in crisis, and I barely managed to reclaim myself from that frenzy.

Was that really all Father’s influence?

“Luwellin?”

Even as the changed armor said otherwise?

“What’s wrong? Suddenly clenching your fist…”

I was certain.

Father’s power originated from Mother.

Father must be the first contractor who somehow obtained that power.

*

It was a snowy night.

A campsite where darkness thrived and didn’t retreat even under starlight, permeated by an unpleasant gloom.

There were certainly lamps everywhere.

The fires lit with quality oil tended to last long, and there were countless campfires that even provided warmth.

Yet strangely, the campsite exuded a dim and damp atmosphere.

A single presence made it so. One man felt like he was drowning as he approached that presence.

It felt like slowly walking into a deep, dark winter sea.

He walked while holding his breath fully so his lungs wouldn’t be crushed by water.

He didn’t exhale once until he entered the largest tent.

He would need all the breath he had gathered for what awaited inside.

As he pushed aside the entrance and stepped in, he saw a woman beyond the flickering lamplight.

A completely naked woman.

Yet he didn’t think of it as obscene.

Despite her voluptuous body, slender waist, flawless skin, and long, well-formed legs that were large for a woman.

The man couldn’t harbor lustful thoughts. He simply bowed his head silently while holding his breath.

The woman turned around.

A woman holding a knife in one hand and something like a stake in the other.

She shook her high-tied hair and smiled. Her entire body was stained with blood, making it a red smile.

“Did you find it?”

A flat, bland tone. Beautiful face with gray-blue eyes.

The man bowed his head deeply to avoid eye contact, and in doing so, saw his dead former compatriot on the floor.

A corpse with a face contorted in agony from being skinned alive.

The corpse had no limbs.

But it was obvious where those limbs had gone. The man reported to the blood-stained woman while hearing the crunching sounds in his ears.

“I found it.”

The woman’s red smile spread. The man exhaled the breath he’d been holding, gasping.