< 92. The God of Hunting >
*
The holy statue of the Jackal God stood at the end of the altar. Fernandez slowly took one step at a time. In the center of the altar hung a rusted, old brass scale.
The altar surrounding the scale was adorned with ancient hieroglyphs of the Empire of Ashit.
[Defend the weight of your sins.]
It was a simple sentence, devoid of any metaphor or description. As Fernandez paused briefly at the edge of the altar, the face of the Jackal God moved.
-*Creeeak.*
Pale dust drifted around the statue. The eyes of the Jackal God looked down at Fernandez. Though it was merely a fragment of a dead god, having lost most of its power and now existing only as a sticky curse.
The presence of the god was undeniable. Fernandez gasped under the weight pressing down on him and looked up at the altar.
-You have endured the weight of your evil. Your soul is heavier than your flesh.
The cracked laughter of the Jackal God shook the corridor. Yet, Fernandez remained motionless, staring intently at the scale.
-*Thud.*
On one end of the scale, a slowly pulsating heart appeared. A blackened, aged heart beat sluggishly, writhing.
-What will you place against the weight of your deeds?
The Jackal God’s eyes twisted mockingly. Fernandez glared at the god with bloodshot eyes. Soon, his hand slowly reached for the beastman.
-*Crack, crack.*
Magic entwined around his fingers. Rough mana flowed through the circuits of the Bronze Throne. A black halo ignited behind Fernandez’s head.
“Regret.”
It was a simple illusion. Creating a flower from thin air, overlaying it with a phantom. Now, even such a spell required him to expend the remaining power of the Bronze Throne.
But it didn’t matter. If there was a chance. If there was a chance to grasp it again. If he was finally given the opportunity to do better. Then it didn’t matter.
Even if he lost all his magic, even if he lost Diemonica’s body.
It would simply be like returning to the morning in the forest when he first opened his eyes in this world. He had nothing to begin with.
If he could return to before he lost what was precious, he could give up everything he had. Even if it was his soul. Anything.
“I will place regret.”
-I will judge the weight of your malice, mortal.
-*Squeak.*
A single stem of freesia, conjured by Fernandez’s magic, fell on the opposite side of the scale. Opposite the heart. Compared to the heavy, pulsating black heart, the single flower looked too fragile and light.
-*Squeak…*
The scale trembled. And soon.
The chains of the scale balanced.
The tearing laughter of the Jackal God shook the corridor. Fernandez felt the oppressive weight pressing him down gradually fade.
Slowly, his knees straightened. His bent back, his shattered ankles, all began to recover. Even the molars that had been crushed from biting too hard.
-Repentant one, your life shall be your gallows. Go forth.
With the laughter of the Jackal God, the scale collapsed.
-*Crash!!*
The altar before him split in half, revealing a path leading underground. Fernandez stared blankly at the underground passage.
A passage adorned with brass and steel came into view.
-*Whoosh!*
Small flames began to ignite on the floor of the path. The fire illuminated the passage, causing the metal decorations to shine brightly.
The decorations were familiar.
“Vaitas…!”
The cross swords of Vaitas filled the corridor. Fernandez walked dazedly along the passage. Behind him, the tearing laughter echoed.
-Seeker. Bear your gallows and move forward to achieve your ideals.
The hieroglyphs of Ashit inscribed at the end of the cross sword patterns shimmered.
[Pray. Wish.]
[Any words. Any desires.]
[To any god. To anyone.]
The passage was short. A brass engraving of the God of Hunting with a jackal’s head, smashing a skull of the dead, covered the entire large door.
The flames flickered, making the engraving seem alive. The blue sparks in the carved wraith’s eyes glittered. Upon closer inspection, gems were embedded.
Fernandez read aloud the words slanted on the spear held by the Jackal God.
“Thus, you shall receive.”
-*Thud.*
-*Squeak…*
The door slowly rose upward.
*
A massive dome, lined with carvings of gods and demons, wraiths and hell, and the heavens, loomed over Fernandez’s head. Light streamed in from somewhere, illuminating the grand hall in splendor.
In the very center of the hall was a shriveled mummy with a cross sword embedded in its chest. If Fernandez’s eyes were not mistaken, the skull visible beneath the golden mask was clearly not human.
It was more akin to a beast, with a long skull. Beneath the mask…
The dried-up skin tissue and hairs were visible. And inside, the sharp teeth densely lined up within the gaping mouth.
The mummy of a giant with a jackal’s skull knelt with its heart pierced. Fernandez stood before the mummy.
-It must be a relic of Vaitas…
‘Why didn’t I see this in my past life?’
-We might not have known. It was likely used as a sacrifice to summon the four champions of the Divine Warrior.
‘Well, to summon such a being into the Material World, this level of sacrifice would have been necessary.’
It was certain that the medium was powerful enough to summon a Divine Warrior. Fernandez quietly looked down at the silver sword with intricate engravings.
-Look around.
Faijashi’s voice was heard. The statues on the dome-shaped ceiling of the hall were looking down at him. They depicted stories from the Celestial War.
The war between Hell and the Temple of the Gods, the Elves and Dwarves, and the Dragons. It was a mythical battle that reshaped the continent.
‘In the Ancient Temple of the Gods, Kadán was said to be the God of Discipline.’
-He handled the Scales of Sin, so the dragon’s words must be true.
‘And the remains of that god are in Vaitas’ sanctuary…’
Information began to swirl rapidly in Fernandez’s mind. Vaitas was an ancient deity active even during the Celestial War. He was part of the Temple of the Gods since ancient times, even during the creation era.
And yet, the God of Discipline lies dead in his temple? Fernandez scanned the statues in the hall and noticed the stele right above Kadán’s remains.
The massive stele was inscribed with hieroglyphs from the Ashit Empire era. Though partially destroyed, some characters were still recognizable.
[…as the sun hides behind the shadow… the grasslands burn and turn to desert…]
[Until his last breath, he sought to reclaim the lost divinity.]
[Balancing the Scales of Sin.]
[He pleaded to…]
[Having lost his divinity.]
[He vowed to hunt until his last breath.]
[Demons, heretics, and mages.]
Countless pieces of information swirled in Fernandez’s mind. The Celestial War, the dawn of human civilization, and even the birth of Mumto.
The first god to lose his divinity at the hands of Mumto. Kadán, the God of Discipline. If a god could lose divinity and not die, what would a mere mortal think?
According to the legends Fernandez knew, Kadán was the God of the Hunt. Yet, the murals in the corridor leading to Kadán’s sanctuary showed no signs of hunting beasts.
Only the Jackal God tracking wraiths and humans. So why was he called the God of the Hunt? Was that the legacy left behind?
Fernandez swallowed and quietly approached Kadán’s mummy.
“The first Inquisition Officer. Kadán, the Hunter of Heretics.”
Judgment of sin and the duty to hunt heretics. This ruin was the first Inquisition Office. Only now did Fernandez understand why Vaitas’ relic was embedded in the center of this sanctuary.
This was a secret stronghold where the descendants of the Ashit Empire, turned to wasteland by Mumto, vowed to fight heretics for eternity.
Entering through a hidden entrance, this entire gateway tested the guilty on the Scales, functioning as the Inquisition Office.
Fernandez slowly placed his hand on Vaitas’ Keyblade. The cold touch of the hilt flowed through his fingertips.
-Fwoosh.
The Stigmata embedded in his chest and back began to pulse. The Blood of Diemonica coursed through his veins. The components bestowed by Vaitas resonated with the sword, causing it to tremble.
-Rumble…
The entire sanctuary shook. Grasping the immense divinity he felt in his hand, Fernandez slowly drew the sword.
A silver-white longsword was drawn. And soon, Kadán’s remains began to crumble into dust.
-Clang.
As the remains collapsed, Kadán’s Golden Mask, broken below the jaw, rolled on the ground. Fernandez carefully picked up the mask.
A small, faint, yet unmistakable spiritual energy wriggled within the mask. It wasn’t Vaitas’.
“He was alive…”
*
Kirhas and Abel were in chaos. The murals in the corridor twisted on their own, and just as the lights flickered, Fernandez disappeared!
“Uh, uh, uh…?”
Kirhas blankly stared at the spot where Fernandez had been.
“Was there a trap in the corridor?!”
“Wait.”
-Boom!
Abel suddenly kicked the spot where Fernandez had been. The powerful strike made it seem like the corridor itself shook. She was so panicked that she couldn’t control her strength.
But the corridor remained unchanged.
“Hmm…”
Abel rubbed her leg, frowned, and shook her head.
“It’s just a stone wall. There’s no trap…”
“Then how could Your Excellency just disappear from a stone wall…? Is this magic or something?”
“That’s not it either. I didn’t sense any magical energy.”
They blankly stared at the end of the corridor. Did he just vanish, as if evaporated? Kirhas looked at the floor with a bewildered expression.
The blue path that usually extended toward Fernandez now glowed throughout the entire corridor. They couldn’t even figure out what was happening.
“I can’t see anything, Abel.”
“Let’s go.”
Abel frowned and took the lead. With no forks or traps in the corridor, all they could do was move forward.
*
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