[458] The Beginning of Change (10)
"Miro."
Gaold forced himself forward with another agonized step. He didn't even know how it was possible.
Every sense had become transcendentally sharp—and the sharper they were, the worse the pain grew.
Bodily pain seeped into the mind, and the mind seeped into the heart, knocking on hell's gates.
A person's heart is hell.
"Miro!"
The restraining power tightened, driving his pain threshold ever higher.
Even amid unbearable torment, Gaold could no longer feel any change in his body.
It just hurt too much.
The heart has no physical substance, so it knows no limits.
"Uaaaaah!"
Pain multiplied a hundredfold.
Gaold's face contorted beyond recognition.
Even the mages and lawmages who prided themselves as the world's best felt something monstrous and inhuman radiating from Gaold as he broke through the restraints and pressed onward.
"H-how is this possible…?"
Sein cried out.
"Gaold! Stop! You'll die if you keep going!"
But Gaold did not give up.
His hypersensitive nerves were fixated only on the receding figure of Miro.
—I can't do anything for you!
"O God."
Pain multiplied four hundredfold.
Thunk! Nerves leapt and burst through his skin.
It felt as if he had become nothing but nerves—pain incarnate.
Boom! Boom!
Each step felt like his bones were shattering; shocks rocked his brain.
Being alive felt like the most accursed thing.
What would it be like if an intensely hateful feeling were amplified hundreds of times?
"Block him! Keep him from approaching!"
The Committee's members faltered in shock.
Even anti-magic couldn't shatter him; rejecting Law, he kept advancing.
"How can a human be like this…."
"Grrrrr!"
As Gaold's pain threshold rose exponentially, he clenched his teeth.
His eyes burned with no purpose, and fury at the pain and hatred for the world slowly began to pry open the gates of hell.
"Crush him to maximum!"
At the Committee's order, the mages and lawmages unleashed every ability they had.
An unprecedented level of restraint—one whose outcome even they couldn't predict—was imposed on Gaold.
Krrrgh!
As if glass had shattered, Gaold's mind collapsed.
His pupils had already rolled back completely, and blood streamed constantly from between his clenched teeth.
"O God."
Crack. Crack.
With every movement, fissures raced through his bones.
—I—didn't I say… I love Miro?
Pain multiplied ten thousandfold.
—And yet you dare… think yourself… worthy of her…
"Oh my God…"
Every watcher went pale.
Gaold's hair stood on end, then began whitening from the scalp as if bleached.
—Who do you think you are…
Pain is an intensely personal thing.
In a pain that transcended biological limits, Gaold reduced himself to a single point.
No faith, no ideals, no longing—only stark reality.
That alone was everything.
Kiyaaaaa!
The gates of hell inside his heart opened, and fiends that fed on Gaold's agony burst forth.
That psychic manifestation descended into the world like an aurora; as the surroundings warped, everything began to burn.
It was the beginning of Gaold's Great Ascetic Hell.
Puuuuuh!
Crushed by the ascetic force, the mages' anti-magic failed and Law was shattered; the lawmages fell.
"Eeeeeee!"
Thoughts fled Gaold; he gaped and spat blood-tinged saliva.
All he felt was pain.
Breathing, the beating of his heart—simply being alive was agony.
And yet he did not stop.
Only toward Miro.
To close that damned twenty meters he could never reach, he took another step.
Miro stopped. As if thinking, as if regretting.
But without turning back, she resumed walking toward Istas.
"Miro! Miro! Miro! Miro!"
Shock had erased Gaold's memory; only the concept of Miro remained in his head, and that blind feeling was the only analgesic mixed into his pain.
"Activate the Royal Seal!"
At the Committee head's command, the contingency demon-binding formation they'd prepared sprang to life.
A sealing circle drew itself at Gaold's feet and began to pin the great evil to the ground.
"Kraaaaaa!"
No human or creature could fathom the shock of pain at ten thousandfold.
Yet Gaold would not die. His time had already stopped.
From the wide-open gate of hell, a towering incarnation of hatred rose in a body of flame.
Gaold screamed.
"Kreeeaaaaah!"
He poured it out at the world like a monster.
Faith, humanity, the world—everything vanished as hatred for everyone except his suffering self spread, and the world began to be swallowed by hell's landscape.
"Kreeeeeeee!"
It was so extreme it felt almost pure.
"You damned…!"
Sein ground his teeth and fought back tears.
Even the servant, standing before such extremity, felt his heart quake.
Like gas erupting from lava accumulated over millennia, a single thought pierced the steel of reason and had to be accepted.
"Yes, Gaold! It's not over yet!"
Gaold's arms, their joints torn from sockets, were pinned at the center of the sealing circle; his legs were twisted oddly, yet his face still turned toward Miro.
At this rate his body would be shattered.
Before that could happen, Sein lunged.
Unable to hold back any longer, tears streaming, he grabbed Gaold's face and spoke.
"Live, Gaold! Not now!"
"Gaaaa! Miro, Miro…"
"Not yet. I'll do something! By whatever means, I'll get you to Miro! So please—just live for now!"
"It doesn't hurt… Pain… I am…"
"Accept my magic. Hold on a little longer—just a little more!"
Sein injected sleep magic into Gaold's mind.
He knew that under this extremity even biting wouldn't help, but Gaold had to believe him.
If there was anyone—perhaps the purest and most foolish person in this world—Gaold was that person….
Sein poured every last ounce of strength into the spell.
"Gaold, hold on. Endure it. If not you, no one can save Miro."
Krrrgh.
Gaold trembled and looked at Miro.
Only twenty steps.
The fury of being unable to close that gap was nothing compared to recovering Miro.
"Miro, I will come. I will…."
Overcome with rage, Gaold howled.
Kraaaaaa!
At the same moment, Sein's magic finally began to take hold.
From the outskirts of the hell linked to his mind, bands of auroral light narrowed, and the hellish landscape gradually receded.
The sealing circle's grip weakened, and the arms that had stretched from his back went limp and fell to the ground.
Thunk! Gaold, rendered unconscious, struck his head on the ground.
The twenty judges, their guards, and the executive committee stood speechless.
Even the world's most renowned bodyguards only realized they were drenched in cold sweat and breathed a sigh of relief once the Great Ascetic Hell vanished.
Gustav Habitz of the Triarchate said, "A dangerous specimen. Better to remove him now."
He had tried to monopolize Miro and been beaten by Gaold, but such grievances were not in his mind now.
It was absurd—but a strange thought bloomed: perhaps this man could erase Miro's space-time.
"Let's watch a bit longer."
Just as Habitz's subordinates moved, a woman's voice spoke.
It was Teraze Mistra, queen-empress of Kashan and the biological mother of Uorin.
Not even Habitz could treat the empress of Kashan lightly.
If she was the mitochondrial Eve, her decision would not stem from mere personal motives.
Mistra watched as Sein lifted Gaold and walked away.
—Gaold, huh….
She felt that, perhaps in the distant future, his existence might become a major variable.
Gaold was rushed off and treated.
He remained unconscious for nearly a month, and when he awoke all that awaited him was excruciating pain traveling along his hypersensitive nerves.
"You holding up okay?"
Gaold lay in bed, fists clenched, trembling.
No words were likely to reach him while the pain surged.
"Rest."
Sein turned away.
Whenever the project moved forward, they needed Gaold to be able to function, at least to some degree.
"I had a dream."
Sein's footsteps stopped at Gaold's words.
"I dreamed I was going to Miro."
A story that might actually come true one day.
Sein accepted it as fate and asked, "Oh? How was it? Did it feel like you could fly from happiness?"
Gaold didn't answer that.
"I will go for sure. Keep your promise."
"I'm not doing it for you. I'm doing it for Miro."
That was Sein's last visit.
It took Gaold another month before he could stand.
The pain still wracked every nerve, but he could not stay in bed forever.
The graduation exam was looming. To do anything, he first had to become a mage.
Gaold donned his habit and visited the Yore Church.
He stood silently before the circular emblem. Then Yora approached from behind.
"Gaold, it's been a while. Are you all right?"
"...."
Yora watched Gaold's silent back with pity.
The full details weren't known, but rumors of a believer who had renounced the divine had been circulating.
It was obvious the believer was Gaold.
"Gaold, you must not blame God. Everything He does has purpose."
Only then did Gaold turn to Yora and give his courteous, beautiful smile.
"No, Lady Yora. I would never blame God."
As Gaold passed Yora and headed for the exit, something snapped.
Grasping the pendant at his throat, Gaold clawed at his chest; his face began to contort like an ogre's.
—From the beginning….
His fingernails tore into flesh, drawing blood.
Agony contorted his features, yet his mouth stretched as if ripping toward his ear.
—There was no god to begin with.
* * *
After Sein finished his story, Shirone and the others watched the torchlight burn in silence.
The blazing flames before them felt like Gaold's heart.
"Thus Gaold abandoned the divine and wandered the world. To grow stronger. You can't adapt when there's no limit. Training in such extreme pain was sheer madness."
Shirone shuddered at the thought.
Even if the pain had been only ten times worse, he wouldn't want to walk, let alone train in magic.
"But humans are strange. He did it."
"Did he overcome the pain?"
Sein shook his head.
"No. He accepted the pain itself. The bodily pain became nothing compared to 'not being able to save Miro.' Whether it was a hundredfold or ten thousandfold, to Gaold it was only a sting along the nerves. But Miro is different. She is a phenomenon, an event. When one dreams the impossible, the gates of hell inside a person's heart seem to open."
Shirone turned Sein's words over in his mind.
Impossibility is a word made by humans—yet humans desire it.
A person's heart is hell. Shirone finally understood Julu's words.
Boom.
A distant, muted blast echoed beyond the night sky.