Three successive revelations landed on him like three critical strikes, leaving him completely stunned.
The conversation between the two hadn't been concealed from the others. Siatas, in particular, had been listening closely, her ears pricked. The moment she heard that Mobet was also about to die, she immediately asked, "Why? Why do you say he'll die soon?"
Edward's gaze swept across everyone present, and he chuckled, "Not just him. All of you here will be dead very soon."
The line dripped with the arrogance of a villain. The group, already on guard, nearly struck out on the spot—ah, no, "Elven Songster" had already raised her bow.
Ah, right…
I forgot I've already fully digested the Spiritcaster potion. I don't need to force these kinds of "impressions" on others anymore.
Damn the side effects of acting!
"You should know by now how you ended up here, and what this world actually is, shouldn't you?" Edward asked.
Everyone hesitated, but nodded.
"Just as I said earlier, Pallez has been hunted by Amon for thousands of years. Which means you've all been here for thousands of years as well…oh, except for Mr. Frunziar—he's only been in here for a little over a century."
Edward spoke to them with frankness. "In other words, you guys are old bags of bones way past their expiry date."
Mobet murmured, "This…we've actually long known. Before meeting Frunziar, I once lived in a place where humans and intelligent races coexist peacefully. I married again and again, only to watch my wives age, grow frail, and die each time. We'd forget our purpose, spending decades, centuries even, living ordinary, peaceful lives."
"But we're only Sequence 5s. Theoretically, we shouldn't have lived this long. So it must be some special rule of this world."
Edward nodded. "Exactly. But this 'undying' rule only exists here. Once you leave and return to reality, all those years you've lived will catch up in an instant, and time will consume you. That moment will mark your death."
He spread his hands. "Put simply, leaving this place means dying."
Even the simple, honest Groselle now understood Edward's point. Silence fell over them all.
After a while, Mobet asked, "Then why did that old man send you to find me?"
"Congratulations, you've spotted the blind spot," Edward said with a grin. "Since I came here, it naturally means I have a way for you to continue surviving after leaving this world." He paused. "Strictly speaking, it's not 'living' in the truest sense. It's existing as evil spirits."
The ascetic monk, Snowman, who had been silent until now, spoke in a deep voice: "You intend to use some method to preserve our souls, allowing us to continue on as evil spirits?"
"Exactly."
As expected of someone from the era of the Ancient Sun God—truly knowledgeable.
"But such methods usually only work for demigods or above, and even then require luck. For those of us at Sequence 5, once our bodies die, our souls already carry the mark of the Underworld. We'll be irresistibly drawn in. Even if we're fortunate enough to become evil spirits, we'd likely lose our reason. That's no different from death."
Edward blinked. Becoming evil spirits is that complicated? Was my earlier idea just wishful thinking?
Still, things had come this far—he had to try, no matter what.
So Edward said, "I don't know the specifics. But if you place your faith in my Lord, He will bring you into His divine kingdom. Then, you'll see for yourselves."
Snowman fell silent again before replying, "Forgive me. I worship only the Lord who created everything, the omniscient and omnipotent God."
"Relax," Edward said with a smile. "Your Lord won't mind such a small thing. After all, He has a very good relationship with the one I worship."
He wasn't exactly lying. In the future, my relationship with the True Creator was indeed quite…amicable.
After a pause, he added cheerfully, "Besides, you can continue your old faith while also believing in mine. My Lord truly doesn't mind such things."
Whether they minded or not was another matter. After all, the Elf King, the Giant King, and even the Ancient Sun God were already dead. The dead deserved respect.
Snowman froze, a flicker of doubt flashing through his eyes as he rasped, "The Lord…is He truly still there?"
He had deliberately chosen the vague word "there" instead of "alive."
Clearly, through conversations with the others, he had long suspected that the Ancient Sun God was no more. It wasn't just because Mobet and Frunziar—later arrivals—had never even heard of Him. It was also because among the Seven Gods they spoke of, several clearly wielded authorities that should have belonged to the Lord.
"Whether He is or isn't, you'll find out once you're outside, won't you?" Edward replied.
Snowman lapsed into silence.
"Alright, that's the situation. Aside from Mobet, I won't force anyone else. Here is the honorific name of my Lord. Speak it aloud, and you'll be able to enter His divine kingdom."
He handed Mobet a piece of parchment inscribed with the three-part honorific.
Mobet blinked in confusion. "Why are you forcing me, specifically?"
"I told you—I came here on Pallez's request to find you. I can't exactly bring your bones back to him, can I? Uh…though, well…whether or not you become an evil spirit, your bodies will probably still turn into skeletons."
"…"
At this point, even though everyone still harboured doubts about Edward, they could tell he likely meant no harm. Otherwise, why waste so many words? Of course, there remained another possibility: he was toying with them for his own amusement.
But really—who would be that bored?
The thought had barely formed when Mobet's heart suddenly tightened. No! There really was someone that bored—Amon!
He would disguise himself as someone pretending not to be Amon, tricking others into believing he wasn't. He'd gain their trust, feed them hope, only to suddenly reveal at the end that he was Amon all along.
That was exactly the kind of thing Amon would do.
What rotten luck!
Frunziar was the first to speak: "I'm willing to place my faith in that great being."
As a soldier of Loen, he bore little burden when it came to faith.
Siatas frowned, thinking hard. "I'm sorry, but I cannot place my faith in a false god…"
Edward casually pulled out the Book of Calamity and shook it. "Oh, but I happen to be on rather good terms with your Elves' 'Queen of Calamity.' This is a gift from Her."
The elf's eyes widened at the sight of the book. "But…according to Mobet and Frunziar, our elven race should have already…They didn't even know She ever existed. How did you come to know Her?"
"The elves are indeed nearly extinct. Queen Cohinem fell long ago. But She didn't completely perish—She left contingencies within certain elven ruins, hoping for a chance to revive Herself."
Edward smiled at her. "But tell me—there haven't been elves in the outside world for many years now. Even if some descendants still exist after millennia, do they truly have the ability or the will to aid their queen?"
Siatas, like Snowman, fell into hesitation. Of course she wished to help her queen, but…was this man telling the truth?
If the Book of Calamity had been stolen from the queen, then he could very well be an enemy of the elves, tricking her into faith for his own ends.
Meanwhile, Groselle the giant laughed heartily. "I'm willing as well. Frunziar says the giants outside have long gone extinct. If I can keep living, then I must bear the duty of carrying on my people's legacy."
Edward shot him a surprised glance. Legacy, huh? Don't tell me you mean reproduction? With that body of yours, you won't exactly find a suitable partner. And even if you did, once you're out there, you'll be an evil spirit—how would you even continue the bloodline?
Well, then again…there were giants in the Harry Potter world. Different species, perhaps. Was there reproductive isolation?
He clapped his hands sharply. "Alright, everyone. I understand life and faith are not easy things to give up. You don't need to decide right away. In any case, before we can leave this place, we must first reach the end of this book's story."
Mobet immediately asked, "How do we reach the end? Over the years, each of us has tried. But every so often, we'd forget everything, drifting into a daze—some wandering off to live elsewhere, some falling into long sleeps—until the next new arrival appeared."
"Simple," Edward replied. "We just have to slay the 'King of the North,' Ulyssan."
At that, Groselle straightened at once. "But all these years, we've never managed to find it! Every time we hear of it attacking villages or towns, by the time we arrive, it's already gone."
Edward frowned. "You mean to say…you haven't even seen it with your own eyes?"
"No."
This time it was Frunziar who spoke. "Strictly speaking, Groselle saw it once. He witnessed it destroy a town with his own eyes, causing enormous casualties. That was why he swore to slay the dragon."
So that was it…This book really was structured like a game's storyline. If the right conditions weren't met, the plot simply wouldn't trigger.
In that case, perhaps the so-called 'King of the North' only spawned when the trigger was fulfilled. Until then, it might not exist in this world at all.
That…would be troublesome.
So, should he really find someone to stuff his 'Suitcase' two more people inside just to fill the roster? But if people brought in by "abnormal" means didn't count…what then?
ROAR—!
At that moment, the entire cavern shook violently. A wave of savage, frenzied power crashed down upon them.
Groselle shot to his feet. "It's Ulyssan—it's here!"
Edward was stunned. So his guess was wrong? They hadn't failed to meet the King of the North because it didn't exist—it had just been sheer bad luck?
But in the original, the dragon only appeared once the cast had gathered. Why was it here now?
The group rushed through the cavern toward the entrance.
A colossal figure descended from the skies, landing upon a massive, ice-encrusted boulder nearby. Its membranous wings did not fold away but stretched wide, blotting out what little light there was.
Shimmering, crystalline scales like frozen dreams. Eyes of raging, abyssal blue.
Its scales shimmered like crystalline frost. Its dragon eyes glowed with a violent, abyssal blue. Almost at once, it opened its maw and spewed forth a torrent of unstable, twisting ice-blue flame. Wherever it passed, the air itself froze into transparent solid crystals!
In the blink of an eye, the firestorm rose into a surging tide of prismatic frostlight, flooding toward the cave's mouth, freezing everything in its path.
Faces paled. Everyone fell back—everyone except Edward, who stood unmoving, staring up at the approaching azure blaze.
Groselle hesitated for only a second before thrusting out his massive hand toward him. "Quick—move!"
———
[Note]: 755 Powerstones for an Extra Chapter tomorrow~ Go, VOTE!
And if you are like me and want to read 40 Chapters in advance of the current story right now, you can support me on my Patreon. Thank me later~
Link - (P)atre(o)n.c(o)m/ Iseeblack [Remove the brackets]