By Zephyria 
Marianne fled into the dinner hall. It was the only place large enough for our entire party to sit, with plenty of chairs and a wide table. All my comrades and the Knights were gathered there. As Marianne burst in with the momentum of someone about to collapse, Benjamin steadied her as soon as she entered the hall and helped her sit.
Marianne slumped onto the table, resting both arms on it, and buried her face as if sobbing.
“This is it.”
“…What is?”
“The truth of the mist. The continuous birth of young, pure souls and their rapid, successive deaths—that is the mist itself.”
“And the people who ate that meat, are they alright?” Ruben asked quickly. Marianne, still not lifting her head, tousled her own hair. Then, she suddenly lifted her face, pressing her plump cheeks down with her hands as if to stretch them. She looked utterly ghastly.
“Will they be alright? No, they are, they are alright. But it can’t continue.”
“…I’d like a more detailed explanation.”
Ruben pulled out a chair opposite Marianne and sat down. I stood by his side, looking down at the small, round crown of Marianne’s head. After the child whimpered a couple of times, she glanced around. Benjamin and Knight Bailey immediately closed all the open doors.
“There are records of sacrificing white sheep during ancient temple rituals, offering their meat and blood to the First Goddess, aren’t there? It was similar in black magic. The only difference was that black sheep were slaughtered and their meat and blood were offered to the Ninth God.”
“…To the Ninth God.”
“He is the god of jealousy and greed, a ferocious god who succeeded in killing two gods. It’s only natural that black magicians, who pursue great power, would revere him. Of course, black magicians are also magicians, so more of them don’t believe in gods…”
Marianne kept tugging at her hair, which was quite distracting. However, her pathetic state made everyone listen quietly, even in their bewilderment. Marianne continued.
“Anyway, this magic is called Aries Dolo, a spell enhancement magic… It wasn’t meant to be used in practice. But there’s no record of anyone using it recently; only records of its use in the very, very ancient past remain. That’s because the spell’s preface begins like this: ‘The caster, recognized by the Ninth God, cuts open their own belly and places it on the altar, then recites the following spell.’ It’s a magic that can only be cast upon death.”
“….”
Ruben continued to ask in a calm voice, “So, besides pressing the seal, there are no other effects?”
“This… is a spell that strengthens one’s wish by promising to continuously offer the blood and flesh of a pure being when a single, deeply desired thing is achieved. Right now, that one thing is the seal. If I saw this mist elsewhere, I might have a different impression.”
“For now, at least.”
“Yes. For now, it’s strengthening the seal. I can’t read anything else.”
Ivan, who had been listening quietly, sat with his arms crossed, leaning back deeply into the chair. Sienna, sitting beside him, looked pale and kept glancing at him, which caught my eye. Rubel never took his gaze off Marianne. He simply asked again, “What did you mean by ‘burn the blood’?”
“There’s a superstition that if you consume the blood used in black magic for a long, continuous period, your soul becomes collateral after death. Some say it’s due to the custom of eating the meat after the ritual and pouring the blood on the ground, but it’s not proven, so I don’t know for sure. Still, just in case…”
“….”
“I know it’s useless to tell them not to kill the newborn lambs from now on. We have no food. Famine will bring many deaths anyway, and killing the lambs is better than that. So, I just hope they don’t drink the blood…”
Marianne, who had been tearing at her hair for a while, seemed to have composed herself and began to comb her hair with her fingers. Rubel’s index finger tapped the table.
“So, it seems the seal on the Lake of Memories is indeed something that needs to be broken.”
“I think so too.”
Just then, the closed door burst open.
Knight Bailey Barton, standing right by the door, merely shrugged her shoulders. It was as if she hadn’t bothered to block the entrance because the presence was familiar. Boulder, looking bewildered, panted and asked, “What? What is?”
“….”
I felt awkward, as if the older ones were being left out.
Knight Sheryl Bon grabbed Boulder and led him to a corner, repeating Marianne’s explanation once more. Even whispered, it was loud enough for everyone in the hall to hear.
While waiting for the explanation to finish, Ivan left, saying he would prepare the workers in advance. Bailey Barton followed him out to escort Ivan and his wife.
❖ ❖ ❖
And two more days passed.
As we drew closer to Viper, the capital of Biban, the mist grew thicker. The air inside the carriage, permeated by the dense mist, was also very hazy and murky. Now, if I stretched my arm out, my fingertips would be obscured and appear blurry.
As the mist thickened, Rubel seated three Knights on the three driver’s seats.
Walking into the vast mist was a frightening and terrifying prospect. He judged that only those with the strong mental fortitude of a Sword Master could endure it. Since they were all skilled riders, it wasn’t a difficult task.
Mage Boulder sat beside Samantha, who was driving the first carriage. As a 7th Circle Mage, he continuously split the mist before them in half, allowing the rest of the party to follow easily.
In the first carriage sat six of us: myself, Rubel, Ivan and his wife, Marianne, and Benjamin. The second and third carriages carried the laborers, divided in half. We were all crammed together, but no one complained.
After all, in this kind of mist, if you accidentally fell off your horse or were captured by someone, there would be no way to get them back. It was much better to travel while chatting with familiar faces.
We did the same.
“Is this mist also an effect of Aries… that magic?”
“Aries Dolo? It seems so… but the purpose of the mist seems a bit different. For one thing, the center of the magic circle is in the exact opposite direction of the Lake of Memories, and the mist here is thicker than in the rural village we were just in…”
“Can they overlap?”
“Hmm, rather than overlapping, it looks like different casters used the same magic. This is a zone-setting magic circle. Since the number of people consuming the meat of slaughtered young lambs in the capital would be significantly higher, the spell’s completion might have been enhanced.”
Marianne, who was small in stature, was seated beside me for Rubel’s convenience. Marianne sighed so much that my right forearm felt ticklish. Seeing her dejected expression, I asked her the reason, wanting to comfort her.
“Is it that sad that people are eating the young lambs?”
In the Sierran Empire, there was a perception that eating more vegetables than meat was healthier, and consuming meat from livestock raised in a peaceful environment was considered superior.
Perhaps she felt sorry for the young, cute lambs born just recently. Witnessing or being aware of the slaughter was very different from eating already cooked meat. In my past life, I had killed animals several times to survive, but the nobles of this land did not cut open the bellies of hunted beasts themselves. Marianne shook her head, sighing heavily.
“It’s not that… It’s that all of Biban’s terrestrial power is bound. Black livestock with shorter lifespans than their natural ones are constantly being slaughtered. The problem is there, but I’m angry because I don’t have the confidence to solve it.”
“You don’t have the confidence to solve it?”
“Yes. It’s… the pain you feel when a test question comes from a WNC a professor has never explained. It’s truly terrible, and the world feels cursed. It’s unpleasant.”
“…Ahem.”
Ivan’s shoulders shook as he suppressed a laugh with a cough.
Sienna, Ivan, and Benjamin—all three men sitting in order were quite well-built. Ivan, squeezed between two large bears, was sitting on the edge of the carriage seat, balancing only with the strength of his legs. I watched blankly as he adjusted his legs, which had slipped, to regain his posture.
What kind of professor would do such a wicked thing? While I was too stunned to reply, Rubel, leaning his chin on my shoulder, asked kindly, “Even if we find the divine object, do you think it won’t be resolved?”
“I don’t know. We don’t know what abilities that divine object has, or how to use it.”
“If it’s within my reach,” Rubel murmured, choosing somewhat poetic words. “And if it is God’s will, we will be able to try something. Don’t worry too much. Even without the power of the divine object… before returning to the capital, we’ll stop by the Lake of Memories to try breaking the seal, check the results, and if it seems too difficult, I’ll invoke Yulan’s divine object.”
“….”
“…This is, again, reassuring.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
Marianne thrust her fist forward towards me. Rubel unhesitatingly bumped his fist against her small one. I was stunned to see Rubel and Marianne interacting so familiarly in the middle.
When did the two of them become so close? It wasn’t an unpleasant sight, but given their distinct personalities, it was surprising. Then again, when I thought about it, I had never seen anyone not become close with Marianne. I quickly accepted it and nodded.
We chatted about various things.
The number of people entering the Royal Castle was also decided then. Marianne wanted to tour the capital separately, so Benjamin was assigned as her escort. Ivan and his wife also lacked the audacity to enter a neighboring royal castle, so they decided to stay behind and find lodging.
I decided it would be best for only four of us to go: myself, Rubel, and two Knights. When I said this, Marianne recommended Samantha Andrei and Bailey Barton. They were the ones previously mentioned as having personal matters with Hugh Benson.
Recalling their attitude of constantly paying attention to Rubel’s safety, I nodded. It was not a bad selection. Rubel and I both agreed, and it was decided.