Volume 7 Chapter 11 The Sage’s Chronicle
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
It seemed the history of this world had only lasted two hundred years.
The towns and streets where humanity had lived until now, the flowering of culture, the wisdom that founded nations—supposedly all of it had been accomplished within such a fleeting span.
Impossible. Humanity was lazy, resistant to change, quick to set fire to itself with each new conflict, building civilizations only to destroy them. To reach this degree of advancement, there should have been centuries upon centuries of peace, of ambition born from safety, of thousands of years of accumulated time.
And yet, when he spoke with the Forestkin—those who lived for hundreds of years—they told him they had witnessed the world’s end, two hundred years ago.
The land had been a wasteland overrun by the dead. Bathed forever in a glaring sun, stripped of sea and forest alike. Look up, they said, and one saw not the sky, but the ground itself, twisted into a colossal hall of spirals. The world had been broken, utterly, irreparably.
And yet, after that collapse, came reconstruction. The new beginning was this very world. The earth they walked as if it had always been theirs was a miracle that had survived the waves of myth.
No one knew why the destruction came. What they did know was this: it was Goddess Teekua who denied the end. It was the goddess who remade the world. Or perhaps she became a goddess precisely because she accomplished that feat.
There existed nine other realms.
Grand Cathedral. Paradise. The Fortress. The Temple. The Abyss. The Hollow. Crimson Spire. Moon Court. The Fragment.
These realms were the proof of Teekua’s impossible deed, the pillars that now upheld the world. By overlapping our ruined land with other worlds, she restored its cycles and supplemented what had been lost.
The sky was gone, so she overlapped it with another. The sea had dried, so she drew another world’s ocean into place. The forests, vanished, were restored by layering still another realm upon the wasteland.
The fused lands became transformed into these otherworlds. The dead who could not return descended into the Abyss, where their souls were purified. Cleansed, they moved to Hades—another realm—and the circulation of life was restored.
Thus, the world began walking a new path. By divine will it continued to exist. Humanity carried on as if nothing had happened, celebrating life, living its peaceful days.
But Teekua did not stop there. Once the world had already perished once, she could never be rid of the sense of looming danger. She decided to intervene deeply in the human realm. By placing countermeasures before the crisis struck, she would ensure its survival. Her foresight and groundwork became known as the Chosen.
The Chosen were humans she interfered with directly, pieces set on the board to avert disaster.
* * *
”…What the hell is this? Supposed to be some kinda creation myth?”
It was a book blacker than anything that ought to exist. Heavy, oppressive, swallowing light whole, radiating dread simply by being held. His palms grew damp with sweat from the tension of touching it.
”This is the Sage’s Chronicle, written a hundred years ago. But… maybe it’s the same thing as the Black Chronicle.”
”…A prophecy?”
”There’s a Stellar Skill with that name. Stellar Skill: Chronicle Maker. It produces books that never decay. The current Saint possesses it. This chronicle feels identical to the prophecy books she creates.”
Cianie had insisted Klock should know the world’s creation myth. That was how he found himself in her bedroom, seated on the edge of her pale-pink bed, staring at the book she had summoned into her hands. Just a glance was enough to scream: dangerous.
Black. Too black. So black it seemed even the gaze itself was devoured. Just holding it, he felt like ill fortune was already crawling toward him.
”…Where’d you get this thing?”
”Long ago, from the Pope himself. He said a divine oracle commanded him to hand it to me.”
The Pope—head of the Bishop’s Council in the holy Fritz Theocracy, the goddess religion’s supreme leader. The Theocracy was one of the largest powers on the Human Continent. Klock had never expected to cross paths with it in his life, though for heroes, its influence was unavoidable.
”…Looks like nonsense to me. Rambling about other worlds…”
”Yeah, I know. It’s troubling. But it isn’t just a story. Teekua gave an oracle specifically to show it to me.”
His brows drew together as his eyes fixed again on the black volume. The way light bled into it was maddening. His heart pounded—not from fear, but from the faint thrill of mystery. If this was real, then truths no one else knew were etched here.
”You probably realized from what you read—it was written by ‘the Revealer.’ A Chosen from the last cycle, the one they called the Sage. And what I wanted you to see…”
It was about Paradise. The word existed here, unmistakably. One of the nine otherworlds, layered atop this reality to restore what had been lost. Among them, the Abyss—the lethal zone where life was snuffed out on approach. And next to its name, Paradise.
”…So what you’re sayin’ is—there are eight other death-traps like Abyss, and one of ’em’s this ‘Paradise.’ Which means it’s not some place people get to waltz into. Right?”
”Right. Otherworlds teem with native creatures. For them, Paradise might be an Eden. For us humans… it’s probably hell.”
Where it lay, no one knew. But even if found, Paradise was no place to enter. The chronicle made that much clear, and her words felt undeniably true.
They said monsters came from the Abyss. If that was so, then perhaps Paradise was where the phantom beasts originated. That might explain the name.
Phantom beasts had always existed, yet their presence had thinned, until eventually people said they had vanished. No one knew where they came from, or where they had gone. But if they had gathered in Paradise, then Klock had no business heading there. He could barely escape a single mantis. Meeting phantom beasts would end with no return.
…But wait—if that were true, what the hell was Adelina doing going there? And how did she even know about it? This wasn’t common knowledge.
—
The world of death: Grand Cathedral.
The phantom world: Paradise.
The mountain world: Fortress.
The sea world: Temple.
The darkness world: Abyss.
The forest world: Hollow.
The dream world: Crimson Spire.
The mirror world: Moon Court.
The sky world: Fragment.
—
”…Grand Cathedral—that meanin’ Theocracy?”
”Yes. The Theocracy was built around the Grand Cathedral, but the Cathedral itself was raised to guard the entrance to Hades. So it’s more accurate to call it Hades.”
The names of the nine otherworlds carried a distinct aura. Half of them sounded like buildings, which seemed odd—unless that truly was the only way to describe such places.
”…Moon Court. You just said it. That ring any bells?”
”Yes, definitely. I was going to bring it up anyway. It’s in the chronicle too, and if we’re going to fight the Demon Lord’s Army, you should at least know this much.”
Their eyes met. The serious air between them never wavered. Alone together in her room, talking solemnly—it struck him how much she had grown. In the past, she would have pulled him into her lap, shattered the atmosphere with laughter and teasing.
”…To put it bluntly: there are humanlike races that came from the otherworlds. Different from Humans and Demonkin. For some reason, they’re absurdly rare, called the rare races. Even though they’ve existed as long as humans, their numbers are inexplicably tiny. Know who I mean?”
”…Forestkin?”
”Exactly. Forestkin and the fae are said to have come from the Hollow. Vampires, from the Moon Court.”
The chronicle was penned a century ago. The collapse it spoke of had been two centuries prior. Meaning: there were races in this world that began their history three hundred years ago. They had been drawn in from other realms as part of the reconstruction, brought across into this one.
”Not just humans. Phantom beasts came from Paradise, and dragons came from the Fortress. That part has proof behind it, so I think it’s probably true.”
”Proof, huh? You mean like actual evidence?”
”Not evidence exactly. But some who witnessed the world collapsing are still alive.”
It was still only the Sage’s testimony. Yet if living witnesses remained, then it couldn’t be dismissed as idle nonsense. The long-lived races came to mind first—Forestkin.
According to Cianie, there were elders older than three centuries who testified that, before their eyes, the very world had suddenly twisted into a circular whirl, the forest they had known all their lives becoming another forest entirely, leaving them unable to comprehend what had happened.
If their words were to be believed, then the merging of worlds must have seemed strangely natural from a human perspective. You could recognize the terrain had changed, but no one would ever suspect that their land had been fused with a foreign realm.
”Vampires are said to make others into kin with their fangs. Even with such a powerful racial Skill, they’re still incredibly few in number.”
”…Did the Demonkin wipe them out? Like, too dangerous to be left around?”
”Mermaids are said to come from the Temple, and they’re rare as well. Their only real natural enemies are sea dragons, so there should be more of them.”
This world had Humans, the Beastkin Clans, and demonfolk. But those were crude labels. In truth, Beastkin included cats and dogs and countless others, and demonfolk spanned Demonkin, oni-humans, beast demons, Forestkin, earth humans—so many races they couldn’t be listed in one breath.
Most of them were indeed small in number. He didn’t know much about the Demon Continent, but compared to Humans, nearly all races besides Beastkin and demonfolk formed only minor forces. The fact that Humans, who were said to lack racial Skills altogether, could dominate an entire continent might simply be because their true rivals had existed only elsewhere.
”So what you’re sayin’ is, the Demon Lord’s Army we’re up against…”
”They’re strong races under Demonkin rule. Their factions may be small, defeated by Demonkin, but individually they might be far stronger than either Humans or Demonkin.”
That explained why Humans seemed to be losing. If their foes were the stronger side, then of course the scales tipped that way. Demonkin were veterans who had already crushed countless races. Humans, meanwhile, had spent the last century preserving peace.
It was the seasoned alliance of mighty races against a majority of weaklings. How could they ever hope to win? And worse, the enemy used Monsters as shields, manipulating them with ease, without even bringing the true demonfolk into play.
No wonder Cianie had become the one everyone leaned on. Even Hermine, it seemed, had no choice but to turn a blind eye to Klock for now.
* * *
The Chosen were those tasked with roles needed to avert ruin. If necessary, flowers were given, the pieces moved, so the past mistake would not repeat. No one knew when Teekua had begun to be called a goddess, but after the disaster two centuries ago, she commanded these apostles—Chosen—to save the world.
She had selected six times in all. Four people received the honor of being chosen as apostles. They were—
The One Who Opens.
The One Who Guards the Light.
The One Who Inherits the Bite.
The One Who Reveals.
* * *
It read like a notebook, endlessly filled with information. By the dim glow of a magic-stone lamp he continued, Cianie peering over his shoulder, silent. He heard her faint breathing, felt the gentle weight of her leaning against him, her presence insisting itself.
”…So this time there’re five, but the last time only four?”
”Mm. The number isn’t always the same. But six times? That part’s weird.”
Each passage raised more questions. He shared his unease with her, the irritation simmering inside.
If there had been six selections, then how did they know? And if six selections, shouldn’t there be six Chosen?
Here only four were named. The chronicle offered no explanation. Had the other two died, or simply gone unrecorded?
The more he read, the less sense it made. As for what the Chosen actually did, it was no clearer. “The One Who Faces” and “the One Who Guides” were obvious enough, but “the One Who Chains”… he couldn’t even guess.
What Klock wanted to know most was about himself. If the Chosen were necessary roles to avert ruin, then why would someone like him be selected? And if he had been, what role was he meant to fulfill? He scoured for hints, but found none.
”Klock.”
Before he realized it, she’d pressed more weight onto him. The black chronicle slipped from his hands as she took it away.
”I’ll lend it to you. For now, let’s stop here.”
And with those words, her lips pressed to his. You didn’t leave a woman waiting. He found himself pushed onto the bed, caught beneath her, bodies entwining.
The night had long fallen. With a woman here, intent on sharing his bed, books deserved no more of his attention.
…Wait. That passage, “the One Who Inherits the Bite.” Could that mean Rosetta’s ancestor?
The thought struck when her teeth grazed his neck, nipping gently. He recalled hearing that Rosetta’s ancestor, Beledia, had been part of a hero’s party. Rosetta herself bore something unusual, something that had always caught his attention.
Her Unique Skill, Wild Fang. A Skill that bit through the flow of magic itself, nullifying it—rare and without equal. Stranger still, her father, the Wolf King, had possessed it as well. Even her missing sister supposedly had it. Yet Unique Skills weren’t supposed to be inherited. That was the contradiction.
”…Klock. You’re not thinking about another woman, are you?”
”…Not even a little.”
He must have been spacing out, because her voice had dropped a note lower. Her intuition was terrifyingly sharp. Get into bed alone with her, and even thoughts with the faintest scent of another woman were sniffed out immediately.
He pulled her into his arms, rolling over. Their positions flipped, lips still joined as he tugged at her clothing.
The Chosen could wait. Pages of curiosity could wait. Tonight was not the night to rush through them. Tomorrow was already packed; he couldn’t afford to stay awake too long.
There was Mina and Larana to see, hopefully a word with the innkeeper. Irina’s whereabouts were unclear, but meeting her would let him deliver good news. She’d surely smile to hear about Elna’s fate.
The morning after tomorrow, he’d depart for the Human Continent. Only a day remained before the clash with the Demon Lord’s Army. Tomorrow would be the last peaceful day.
Notes:
• Goddess Teekua – The deity who saved Sylvia after her death and granted her rebirth as a hero.
• Clea – younger dog beastkin sister who also serviced Klock previously.
• Cianie – A noble girl with a fluffy white and light blue dress, indicating her high status. She has a hesitant and flustered personality but is kind and courteous. Her relationship with Klock begins as an accidental encounter and develops into a romantic interest. She has a fiancé but expresses feelings for Klock, complicating their relationship.
• Adelina – The slave girl.
• Hermine – Daughter of the Emperor of the Second Empire of Dusselhelm. A companion and friend of Anna. The mage. She is pragmatic and encourages Anna to focus on her duties as a hero rather than her personal revenge.
• Larana – Her white hair contrasts with an aggressive seductress attitude, as she entices with her body and a calculated air, once the gold coins appear.
• Irina – She introduced herself as the innkeeper’s name, a 32-year-old with a youthful appearance, who enjoys being sexually satisfied by Klock. A beastkin cat.
• Elna – Female. A young apprentice mage. Her appearance is that of a child with white hair reaching her shoulders. She wears a black hooded mantle with strange patterns. Her relationship is as an apprentice to Hermine, the Great Mage. Her power involves advanced magic, including spatial teleportation. Her combat style is magical, and she is described as childish and easily provoked.
• Mina – The red-haired cat girl is a hostess who leans in closely, her blushing cheeks indicating her interest, but she plays hard to get.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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