By Zephyria 
Relying on the token given by the Sun God, we decided to return to the holy land. Fortunately, our party all possessed the same token. A god’s token pointing in one direction, a gold coin bestowed by the Sun God.
If we go to its end, we will be saved. We could gather the reinforcements waiting at Felix’s and search the Indus Canyon again. Although it might take several more months, since it is a war fighting against a god in the name of a god, I thought we wouldn’t suffer one-sided losses.
We decided on a shallow cave for our temporary shelter.
We found a spot in the middle of the cliff that had recently been vacated by a fallen rock.
A deep cave could allow monsters to spring out from within, while a place too shallow wouldn’t block the cold wind. The current cave, shallow enough to see its end from the entrance and deeply hollowed out, was the best choice.
“Still, the scenery is nice.”
“…Mm.”
Ruben snuggled close into my embrace. Ruben insisted he needed to stay pressed against me to prevent his body temperature from dropping. It seemed like a reasonable claim, so I easily held Ruben close, resting my chin on his shoulder as I continued to gaze outside.
On the black ridgeline, there was an even blacker recess. It was like looking at a magnificent ink wash painting, where the difference in shades alone conveyed distance and depth. On this land untouched by the Sun God’s power, not even a single star appeared; the sky was black, the mountains were black, and the ground was black.
Amidst it all, a waterway wound its way between the valleys.
“If our drinking water runs out, it wouldn’t be bad to fetch water from there.”
“…Wouldn’t there be many monsters near the water source?”
“Most of the two-legged monsters in this land have become zombies, so it should be fine. Zombies don’t drink water. Even if they come to catch us, open areas are better than enclosed ones.”
“I see. I’m just a little worried if the water is potable…”
In the Central Plains, people often drank directly from flowing rivers. However, in the Sierran Empire, even the clearest water was purified with magic before being drunk. Keeping my arm loosely around his waist, I pondered for a moment before asking, “How many Artifacts do we have left?”
“Well… we have three Healing Artifacts remaining.”
We had brought two per person and used one. I nodded.
“Purification and Clean Magic… none. We used them all last time.”
“Last time?”
“In the desert…”
“Ah.”
It was from the time we first encountered zombies and ran all night. Since our party included wizards, we didn’t stock up much on Clean Magic, assuming we could receive it in time. Even then, as multiple people shared the Artifacts, we were left with none.
Most of the Artifacts Ruben and I had brought were limited to healing and offense.
“We have Shields.”
“Then it would be good for me to prepare Shield Magic while you sleep. During our shifts.”
“Mm. And four Explosive Artifacts. These… we can’t use.”
“Why is that?”
“Because we don’t know where the other party members are. If we accidentally cause a mountain to collapse, it would be disastrous.”
“That’s true.”
Ruben rubbed his head against my right shoulder and looked up. Even then, he chose the side that didn’t hurt, acting cute. Ruben carefully observed my expression before speaking cautiously,
“…Are you okay?”
“Hm? What about what?”
“…Young Lady Philodendore or…”
“Even though Marianne would be the strongest in a survival situation. She’ll be warm and safe. Benjamin is with her too. I heard he can use that Fly Magic, the one that makes you float, for two minutes.”
“…That’s… true.”
“The seniors… they’d probably be too proud if they heard I was worried about them.”
“…That’s also true.”
I deliberately didn’t mention the mercenaries.
They were the ones I worried about the most. Still, it was fortunate that they were the last to join the group and were near the entrance. I worried a little more, then dispelled my anxious heart with a sigh.
Ruben’s earlobe, near my lips, twitched. Was it ticklish? I held the child closer.
“…More importantly, Glotin Tenner. Him suddenly appearing…”
“…You don’t understand?”
“It’s absurd.”
Yes. It was literally absurd.
How much Marianne had missed him, how desperately she had searched for him.
The last time I saw him was at the New Year Festival in the capital. He had lingered shamelessly, disappearing without even asking how she was. After arguing with Oliver Combine over Marianne, he took a long leave of absence and never reappeared in high society.
And now, he was wearing the robe of a Black Magician, raising Blood Corpse Fiends in a strange hall believed to be the Origin of the Ninth God. It was too dirty to be a coincidence, too unbelievable to be fate.
Ruben took my left hand and gently massaged it. The pressure was just enough to be ticklish. I had heard that slowly pressing and releasing fingertips or gently massaging finger joints was good for reviving sensation. The child continued speaking calmly in that manner.
“The Ninth God…”
“…”
“Is also called the God of Pain.”
“Pain?”
“Pain, jealousy, despair… That’s why the people of the Sierran Empire don’t believe in the Ninth God. The Ninth God lost his love, wanted to kill everyone in the world, abandoned humanity once… In any case, he possesses all the bad things.”
My left fingertips felt ticklish. I peeked to see what expression Ruben had while telling me this, but the child didn’t look at me. He just continued speaking calmly.
“So, people who believe in the Ninth God… have a somewhat self-destructive tendency.”
“Self-destructive, you say?”
“Like, ‘May this damned world burn down.’ That sort of thing.”
“…”
“Perhaps Young Master Glotin Tenner was like that too. And then, he might have heard a Divine Revelation.”
I didn’t ponder for long.
“Wesley too?”
“…Mm. It’s possible. Wesley Kiadris didn’t live such a happy life either.”
I recalled the conversations the Black Magicians had amongst themselves.
“I think they mentioned that… some Black Magicians couldn’t hear Divine Revelations.”
“Mm-hmm. We happen to have someone like Elwin Seonbae by our side, though.”
We both laughed simultaneously.
Elvin Brooks was a peculiar person. He remained unfazed despite hearing all sorts of Divine Revelations, and he seemed like someone who could converse with all sorts of beasts. The memory of him lifting his rear and imitating a wolf still struck me as preposterous.
Ruben continued speaking with a laugh,
“Even people with very deep faith… don’t often hear Divine Revelations. That’s why Owen was so flustered. Uncommon events happened simultaneously.”
“Then the one who claimed to hear Divine Revelations, who was said to be in a trance all day?”
“Perhaps they are in that much despair… or half-mad from Contaminated Mana.”
In that conversation, Glotin Tenner said only two words: “Isn’t it pitiful.” How pathetic.
Was it because he raised many beasts in his childhood that he couldn’t get rid of all the wolves? Even while doing such things, did he remain human? Then what about Wesley? And the other Black Magicians…
Was Glotin Tenner’s despair Marianne Philodendore?
I wouldn’t know even if I pondered it. And I didn’t particularly want to pry. I lowered my head, pushing the thought away.
“You confirmed the faces of the Black Magicians earlier, didn’t you?”
“Mm. All four who died were faces I recognized. Two of them were classmates of Wesley Kiadris, and the others were his juniors.”
“Swordsmanship Department?”
“No, two from the Academic Department. And one from the Business Department and one from the Faculty of Law.”
“Are they nobles?”
“One commoner was mixed in… but yes, they all came from the Academy.”
I spoke the question that arose in my mind, not seeking an answer, but reflexively.
“How could they gather all the Black Magicians from the Academy?”
“It’s possible they were easily swayed by Wesley Kiadris’s influence, but…”
“…”
“…People who know a lot tend to imagine more and become pessimistic, perhaps that’s why.”
“…They learned more?”
“It’s not quite like that.”
Ruben chose his words carefully for a long time. As the child’s breathing slowly settled, my chest grew warm. After much thought, Ruben added, almost as an afterthought,
“…They have the leisure. The leisure to resent the world.”
“…”
Ruben’s broad back curved gently. I pulled him closer so he wouldn’t fall forward and could lean against me. Ruben turned his body sideways and rested his cheek against my collarbone.
His lowered gaze looked so forlorn and lovely. Ruben’s eyes were still a little swollen.
“…I think that’s also my father’s responsibility.”
“…Why?”
“Just… it feels that way. The Emperor’s seat is where all responsibilities, present and absent, are gathered.”
“…”
At this moment, I realized there was a question I hadn’t yet asked Ruben.
For a very long time, I had thought of Ruben as a child with a fragile heart. I thought he didn’t know how to confirm identities by lifting corpses with a stern face, and I didn’t know he was a man who could sever a zombie’s limbs in an instant.
But that wasn’t the case. Ruben had only acted pitifully because he thought I liked gentle people. Speaking in a soft voice, bursting into tears like this, and clinging with a pained expression – these were aspects only shown to me.
Then.
Was there something I had misjudged about the child?
“Ruben… do you think it’s possible to ascend the Throne without killing Richard Flo Searon?”