< 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…
