[670] Lord of Fear (1)
The "common brain" was Ra Enemi's unique ability that awakened a person's senses so they could perceive the reality of the otherworld.
A seventh-sense phenomenon.
Under a level of sensation so vastly superior, the five ordinary senses lost all meaning.
Where are you?
The hound that had lost its sense of smell still prowled hell.
Come out. Show yourself to me.
Dragging a bag heavy with daggers, Shagal walked the blood-slick road without end.
Even after slaughtering dozens of gallopers, their flesh could not quench his thirst.
"Ra Enemi."
Shagal had killed Ra seven times.
He had, without question, ended its life—and even mutilated the corpses until there was nothing left to stab.
Why can't I kill him?
The more times he murdered Ra, the clearer the scent of the incident grew—and the duller the pleasure became.
By the seventh and final killing his reason had frayed; he could barely remember how he had done it.
—Because someone had already forgiven him.
Raiden's voice brushed through his memory.
"Humans all make mistakes. If so…"
If humanity itself is evil.
If even the possibility of choosing evil is evil, then no one in this world deserves to live.
Kill, kill, and kill again.
When every potential seed of evil is erased, the world will reach perfect stability.
And so Shagal became a murderer.
Even knowing that he himself would be the final target.
What's that?
Kuan turned at the sound of the bag being dragged.
For the first time, tension flickered across his face—until now he had been unfazed even by the otherworld's grotesqueries.
Who are you?
Shagal halted his approach with a single motion of his blade and felt the same sensation.
He's like me.
A genius, yes—but twisted.
How many have you killed?
Shagal asked, counting the corpses stacked to reach this level. Kuan sneered.
One.
As always, the one standing before him was all that mattered.
So you're Shagal.
Shagal said nothing.
Consider yourself unlucky. I don't know how you drifted in here, but I can't just send you back.
Although Kuan had never had any special rapport with Etela, if he had to pick a side it would be hers.
Huuuuu.
Shagal bobbed his torso from side to side.
Within that motion anyone could imitate lay a deep truth about pendulum movement.
Feeling the world tilt, Kuan scowled.
So that's it?
Always the trickster in fights, he found himself oddly intrigued even as Shagal's technique hit him.
Sorry, but—
Kuan launched himself like a hawk.
That's my technique.
Asymmetry's extreme—Pierrot the Jester.
When the trajectory in midair contorted for an instant, Shagal staggered, dizzy with the illusion that the world had tilted.
What is this…?
The brief confusion passed, and sensing a cold killing intent, he shoved off the ground and lunged.
Kuan's blade grazed his shoulder.
A circus-style skill. And the strongest acrobat at that.
The cells governed by Shagal's schema flared hot.
How long had it been since he felt so keenly the desire to kill?
Kukukuku.
The instant he landed, Shagal twisted his waist and flung the bag into the air; dozens of daggers poured down like rain.
Amid that blade-storm, his arms moved faster than insect wings.
The vibration in the air made Kuan's brow twitch.
Grounding.
A technique of folding part of the schema to strengthen a specific function.
There are more extreme variants—crumpling (over-face) and tearing (abandoning physical feedback)—but their backlash is severe.
This will be finicky.
Kuan's trajectory, which had been angling for Shagal's flank, bent as if warped and looped back around.
Shagal let out a fishy smile and swung his arms.
Come on, acrobat.
The daggers rioting in midair moved as one, flinging off casings of swift blades in every direction.
Tch, ranged techniques too, huh?
Deciding it would be a loss to drag things out, Kuan unleashed twelve external gravities and slithered into Shagal's domain like a snake.
Here it comes.
Shagal's eyes snapped open as, at last, the strongest acrobat and the strongest juggler squared off.
* * *
"A sense that tears down the boundary of space," Shirone repeated after hearing Meirei's explanation.
What kind of sensation is that?
Meirei shook her head.
There's no way to explain it. The si-pok sense is completed by integrating the five senses, so ordinary people can sometimes feel it. But pakji is the integration of the sixth sense. For beings limited to five senses, it's unimaginable.
Jein said, But technically, Shirone, it means you could do it, right? You've already perfectly integrated the sixth sense.
If ordinary people can access the sixth sense, then under special conditions Shirone also has a high chance of feeling the seventh.
That could be the key to escaping the otherworld, but for the person involved even grasping the sensation is difficult.
Even so, you have to know what it is to even attempt it.
Shirone looked at Meirei with a sliver of hope, but Meirei too seemed to have little memory of pakji.
What is certain is that the otherworld overlaps with the world we lived in. They are distinguished at the level of sensation; the existing world hasn't vanished.
If the higher senses regard it as a single world, humanity must have been subject to the otherworld's influence as well.
Shirone thought of times he had been alone and felt an inexplicable chill.
Can we be sure that the inspirations of countless artists sprang purely from their heads?
If, in some way, they were influenced by the otherworld, then this place would be the source of human inspiration.
One space contains past, present, and future simultaneously.
That is the si-pok sense.
One time contains both being and non-being simultaneously.
That is the pakji sense.
Therefore, if you can perceive both the existing world and the otherworld at the same time, you can escape from here. The problem is the method…
While Shirone sat lost in thought, the structure made of hearts they'd created suddenly began to beat rapidly.
What's happening!?
The members woke with startled faces; the core members who sensed the change all sprang up at once.
What is that?
A vertical tear split the seam of space, and another lord of the otherworld revealed himself.
He stood three meters tall, clad in black-iron armor; the inside of his helmet was as dark as a hollow. He rode a black steed whose eyes had been gouged out, and blue flames flickered along the drooping tip of his spear.
I remember.
Meirei shivered as she said it.
The Lord of Fear, Igor. The reason the terrified members died was that this place was his domain.
The common brain transforms human senses into raw, vivid sensations, and Igor's fear struck those brains directly.
Is he strong? Lupist asked.
His rank is divisional commander. I haven't heard of his power through the Oracle.
If the otherworld's hierarchy mirrors our world, a divisional commander is no low rank.
"Raktas vera imera—submit to fear!" Igor cried, raising his right arm and driving his spear, burning with azure flame, into the ground.
* * *
Huuuu.
Kargin exhaled a long stream of cigarette smoke.
How's that? Not so bad for my age, huh?
Joshua, tidying his clothes and checking even his breastplate with care, snatched Kargin's cigarette.
Cut the nonsense and stay sharp. You kept me up.
You won't die from one sleepless night. I'm in a decent mood now so—huh?
Reaching to take the cigarette back, Kargin flinched at the sight of the ember burning at Joshua's fingertip.
What are you doing? Doesn't it burn?
Joshua slapped the cigarette from his hand, but he didn't feel it—his gaze was fixed down the alley.
Leo…
Her son, who had died of heatstroke at four, stood in the narrow alley staring at Joshua.
Mom, it hurts so much. My body's hurting so much.
Leo!
Joshua sprang up and darted into the alley. Kargin threw on a robe and followed.
Wait! Why all of a sudden—!
But he froze when he saw a woman standing in the path.
Mariang?
She was the woman he'd met in his rookie days—promised him a future, only to be ambushed and killed by a monster while on a mission.
Watching her being eaten, Kargin had fled at full speed and realized that the rest of his life would be nothing but despair.
You were too… too young. You were terrified. I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Mariang!
Terrified? Were you more terrified than me? Look at what I went through!
Images of that day forty years ago unfolded on Kargin's retinas, and the horrific scene revealed itself.
No, no!
The fear hidden beyond forgetfulness activated.
Noooooooo!
* * *
No! I'm not a coward!
Armored heavily, Vicon hunched his bear-like bulk and trembled.
Memories of being ostracized by friends in childhood stained the knight's mind with fear.
Memories of terrible mistakes everyone is likely to make once in a lifetime.
Only the core members sat in silence, watching the events spill across their retinas.
What's this?
Without pausing to analyze the phenomenon, Rian slung the great sword over his shoulder and stepped forward.
Murderer!
From the endless sea of darkness, corpses rose up from the surface.
I… I admitted my defeat. I never meant to stab you in the back. But you mercilessly cut me down.
You said you'd get stronger? You killed me for such a petty reason? How many lives has your pride taken?
My family starved to death because you killed me. It's all your fault! You're a murderer!
As the hundreds of corpses he'd slain in the past formed a ring and shouted, Rian gave no answer.
Die! Repent with death for your life of nothing but mistakes, for the countless lives you ruined with your error!
Rotten, ragged corpses lunged at Rian in frantic, pathetic motions.
This is the tragedy you made!
Rian's expression twisted; he bared his teeth and swung the great sword wide.
The corpses split in two with a single stroke, collapsing to the ground with mournful faces and raised hands.
Why…?
Blood-tears streamed down from his stained pupils.
Aren't you ashamed to be human? After taking so many lives, you have no conscience at all?
If Rian had truly been cold-blooded, he wouldn't have experienced these memories at all.
It's conviction.
Not something to be understood or dissected.
Whether nightmare, fiend, or true resurrection.
When Rian stamped on the face of a weeping corpse, the skull burst with a sick, wet sound.
Once cut, you can cut again and again.
Fwooooo!
As the corpses that filled the space shrieked and charged, Rian plunged into the crowd and swung his sword.
Die! Die! Pay it back with death!
Wait for me in hell, you fools.
Rian's face contorted with rage as he hacked through the dead once more.
"I'll let you die all you want after I build the kingdom of conviction," he vowed.
A vast road opened up behind Rian as he cleaved the tide of corpses straight ahead.