Chapter 83

Chapter 83
[The true gods have been dethroned.]

A voice murmurs into Alon’s ear.

He cannot tell if it is the voice of a man, a woman, a child, or an old person; the sound is warped, like strange interference.

Alon, who had undergone a comparable experience once before, quickly understood that his body was now suspended alone in a place akin to the deep sea he had previously witnessed.

[The primeval gods who were cast down from their thrones were stripped of countless things.]

The voice, laden with distortion, carried on in a hushed manner.

[One was robbed of their name.]

[One was robbed of their form.]

[One was robbed of their sanity.]

[One was robbed of their dignity.]

[Many were dispossessed and plundered.]

[The shadowy creatures took a great deal.]

As Alon attempted to concentrate on this enigmatic voice, which felt as though it could shatter his mind if he relaxed for even a second, a feeling of disorientation suddenly washed over him.

Based on his understanding, gazing into a mirror meant confronting the truth.

Yet, within his sight, there was only a emptiness blacker than the deep sea, with nothing but the distorted, staticky voice echoing.

‘What is this?’

Alon tried to speak, but his words failed to form. The moment he registered this oddity—

[It is Bevvelnatbyandtteumlooknyeokkwaengddeungneongmeutneumveldekmalkbim

-]

“I”

The voice, now crackling with even more intense distortion, slammed into his ears with such force that he threw his hands up to cover them instinctively.

Huu-

[-

Veldeknatgutdeungrongmubkwaengryotgatchyumdabe.]

The unsettling noise, as if it would steal his hearing away, persisted, drilling directly into his consciousness.

And then,

[So, it is still not time.]

With a soft sound,

[Eliminate the one in hiding, the one who was deprived.]

By the time Alon heard this once more,

[Feast (食)-]

he finally perceived it.

[For now—]

What lay before him was neither the deep sea nor the void.

It was innumerable galaxies crowding the edges of his sight.

[For the sake of greatness, I will withhold words.]

Alon stared vacantly forward, mesmerized by what he had until now misidentified as the abyss.

As he ‘became aware’ of what seemed to be the abyss, the static began to seep into his vision as well.

A single spot in his sight.

Half of his sight.

His entire field of view became consumed by distortion.

And Alon beheld it.

The ‘eye’ that was fixed upon him.

An eye, as if brimming with star-clouds, dwelling within the emptiness.

And then,

[Close your eyes.]

At its order—

“Gasp—!”

He drew a sharp, involuntary breath and blinked his startled eyes repeatedly, only to discover he was back inside the deep-sea observatory.

The observer standing opposite Alon inquired with a look of profound concern,

“Are… are you alright?”

As Alon briefly knit his brows at the observer’s alarmed face, he noticed his own eyes were wet. He looked into a mirror.

There, he saw his own image, with blood trickling from his eyes, nose, and mouth.

###

Some time later.

“Yes.”

“Just as I thought, it’s no ordinary occurrence, is it?”

Alon, after cleaning the blood away, heard this from the observer.

She appeared unsure how to explain the situation and, after a moment’s pause, spoke with a peculiar look on her face,

“So, you’re telling me that when you looked into the mirror, someone spoke to you?”

“Yes.”

“I heard the subject there.”

“Yes, it was certainly concerning the gods—”

“Wait, say no more about that.”

“…Was I not supposed to speak of it?”

“No. Whether here or anywhere else, it’s better not to discuss that. Unless you wish to see those things attached to the roots start to emerge.”

The observer released a sigh.

“Anyway, you saw a vast entity, shrouded in noise, inside the mirror, correct?”

“Yes.”

At Alon’s confirmation, she hesitated briefly before continuing.

“Let me make one thing clear. The mirror you looked into earlier is called a ‘bronze mirror that records history.’ As the name implies, its purpose is to display the recorded history it contains.”

“Then, usually—”

“Usually, you should have witnessed the history projected by the bronze mirror. Its power is confined strictly to that. But you—”

The observer paused for a beat before going on.

“It appears you saw something different.”

“…What does ‘something different’ mean?”

“I cannot explain it. Even as an observer, I cannot name an entity capable of breaching the bronze mirror’s function and seizing control of it.”

Alon looked down again at the bronze mirror in his hand, hoping its power might stir this time.

But, as luck would have it, after the bizarre episode earlier, the mirror showed nothing new when he peered into it.

It felt as if the mirror itself was deliberately refusing to reveal anything further.

Realizing this, Alon let out a sigh and placed the mirror down, which prompted the observer to resume her explanation.

“One thing is sure: you met an entity far exceeding your own level. Given the severe bleeding and the fact all words were warped by noise, it is obvious.”

“So, encountering an entity beyond one’s capabilities leads to such outcomes?”

“If the disparity in rank is vast, yes. I cannot even discern what is occurring at this very moment.”

The observer shifted her gaze from the bronze mirror back to Alon.

“At this stage, there is little more I can do to assist you.”

“…That is regrettable. I didn’t even acquire half the knowledge I sought.”

“There is one thing I can infer from your account.”

“…What is it?”

“It is probable that the ‘deprived one’ you encountered refers to an Outer God. And it seems the entity you saw may have been attempting to shield you.”

“Shield me?”

It was a notion that felt incongruous given the recent ordeal.

As Alon looked perplexed, the observer gathered her thoughts and spoke again.

“I told you, didn’t I? The bronze mirror reveals history.”

“Yes.”

“But not everyone witnesses the same history. The starting point varies.”

“The starting point varies?”

The observer pointed at the bronze mirror.

“Most who gaze into this mirror typically see the age of the Forgotten Gods as the foundational history. But a chosen handful can see even further back, into a more ancient past.”

As Alon listened, he posed a question.

“Are you saying there exists a history that predates the age of the Forgotten Gods?”

“I haven’t seen it personally, but I believe it exists.”

“Why is that?”

“My predecessor, my teacher, saw that past and left a final warning before dying.”

Her voice took on a bitter edge as she whispered, “Never look into the past that came before the age of the gods.”

“It was a senseless death. Suddenly being shown a past that had remained concealed despite using the mirror countless times, and then perishing.”

“…Simply looking further into the past can kill a person?”

“Yes. If one’s rank is insufficient, it is unavoidable.”

She added,

“If you had seen that past, bleeding from your eyes, nose, and mouth would have been just the beginning. You would have either died, bleeding from every orifice, or been left disabled, if you were fortunate.”

“…”

“I am unsure of the precise requirements for viewing the past, but if you were able to catch a glimpse of the primordial past like my teacher did, you were practically rescued.”

“Could it be unrelated to that?”

“No, I believe it is.”

The observer, looking at the bronze mirror in Alon’s hand, said,

“When my teacher saw the primordial past and died, the bronze mirror lost its power for approximately a year. Just as it has now.”

There was a trace of indefinable anger and yearning in her eyes.

After a short silence, she continued,

“For now, I will send you back outside. With the mirror’s power gone, there is nothing more for you here. Perhaps in a year, circumstances may have changed.”

“…Very well, I’ll trust your judgment.”

Alon stepped into the sphere the observer had formed and was transported back outside the chamber.

“Might I ask one more question?”

“What is it?”

“…This isn’t connected to what I heard earlier, but I heard it while confronting the Outer God. Do you know anything about the ‘Star-Eater’?”

He put this question to her.

###

After Alon had departed, Felin and Penia also arrived on the Syphra Archipelago.

Besides investigating the mermen, they were there to look into the illicit trade of goods originating from the Blue Tower.

Officially, the tower’s goods were only managed by approved contractors. Felin and Penia were tasked with probing the circulation of illegal items as well.

“Ugh, this is so tedious. Why, of all people, do I have to do this just because I’m a deputy tower lord?”

Seeing Penia return to her usual self, dragging her staff and looking completely drained, Felin thought,

‘Just as I suspected.’

His doubts about Count Palatio had mostly faded after observing the count’s formidable magic during the skirmish with the mermen a week prior.

The reason Felin was reminded of the count while looking at Penia was not due to wondering why she acted so formally around him, but because of a more profound question—no, a conviction.

After watching Penia for a while, Felin finally spoke,

“Sister.”

“Why are you bothering me in this blistering heat?”

Penia snaps back irritably.
“Can I ask you something?”
“What is it?”
As he observes her,
“Do you, perhaps, have feelings for Count Palatio?”
Felin tosses out the question casually.
And then—
Smack!
“Ugh!”
Without missing a step, Penia strikes the back of Felin’s head.
Felin looks at her, shocked and somewhat dazed.
“Wait, why did you hit me all of a sudden—”
But before he can finish, Penia smacks the back of his head again.
“Ugh, it’s already unbearably hot, and now you’re irritating me! Do you have a death wish, you fool!?”
Like a volcano exploding, she grabs Felin by the hair and begins pummeling his side with her free hand.
“Ow! Ow! Sister!? Why the sudden violence!?”
“Like? Do I like him? How can you even ask that!? Why would I like Count Palatio!?”
“No, it’s just that you always seem so formal and restrained when he’s around…!”
“You idiot, I’ve always been a respectful person!”
“No, you haven’t always—”
“Stop talking nonsense! Why in the world would I like him!? What made you even think that!?”
“So, you don’t like him?”
“I have no reason to like him in the first place! Why would I like Count Palatio—”
Penia, appearing even more incensed by Felin’s bewildered face, increases the tempo of her punches.
Realizing he may have seriously misspoken, Felin instinctively tries to apologize, but—
“I do, like him.”
“…?”
Abruptly, Penia halts her assault and mutters those words.
Felin, clutching his aching side, gapes at her in confusion.
“I do… I do like him, yes, I like him.”
He notices her gaze is unsteady and fixed on something behind him.
When he turns, he sees Count Palatio standing there, silently observing Penia and Felin with an impassive expression.
And then—
“I… I love you…?”
Penia’s sorrowful, heartrending voice echoes in Felin’s ears.