Rine could not say a word.
It was as if both her heart and lungs had filled with water.
No voice would come out of her parted lips.
Rine pressed her lips tightly together and stared intently at the man before her.
She could see him.
Beyond the dark warning of the judgmental shade, the figure of a man standing still in the darkness.
He looked like an ordinary person.
But he was not truly ordinary. His appearance was dazzling, a rare beauty not easily found.
And yet, strangely, his impression did not remain vivid in the memory.
Even now, as she was staring directly at him, it was the same.
It felt like gazing at a mirage.
Though she knew this was Dreamland, it felt as if she were truly dreaming.
“Oh my, did I frighten you too much?”
Zero Order raised both hands, [N O V E L I G H T] as if to prove he meant no harm.
A gesture of surrender.
As soon as he did so, the surging darkness around him faded.
Released from the suffocating pressure squeezing her chest, Rine was finally able to speak.
“Y-you... who are you really?”
“Your voice is trembling. I’m sorry. That wasn’t my intention.”
“Answer me! Who are you...?”
“Hm. What if I said I was just a traveler who lost his way? Would you believe me?”
Rine did not believe Zero Order’s words.
There was no way a wandering traveler would radiate such a dreadful aura.
Sensing her wariness, sharper and heavier than before, Zero Order let out a quiet chuckle.
“You’re much too cautious. Don’t look at me like that. When I see eyes like yours, they bring back memories I’d rather not recall.”
“......”
“In any case, saying I was passing through wasn’t a lie. I really did just happen by. I just didn’t expect to encounter you here.”
“Me, you mean?”
“Yes. What’s your name?”
“...I don’t give my name to strangers.”
At such a bold reply, Zero Order’s lips curved into a wide grin.
It was a smile alluring enough to bewitch, but Rine felt nothing of the sort.
“Aren’t you afraid of me?”
“I am.”
“And yet you say that?”
“I’m afraid, but even so, I cannot bow my head to the other side.”
In truth, she wanted to drop to her knees right then.
Her fingers trembled, driven by the instinct to beg for her life.
But Rine suppressed the urge.
To lower her tail without even clashing properly with the opponent—
The person she respected would never do such a thing.
Recalling Ludger’s unyielding figure—never bending even before overwhelming power—Rine gathered courage.
Zero Order saw this and narrowed his eyes.
He was smiling, but the emotions flickering in his gaze were too complex to put into words.
‘What is this?’
Even Rine could feel the subtle shift.
“Enough chatter. So, you’re not going to give me your name?”
“Not unless you reveal yours first.”
“Oh? You were serious about that.”
Zero Order stroked his chin in thought.
Rine felt sweat collecting in her clenched fists.
And then she remembered—she had seen something like this before.
That day when a black storm raged through the capital.
What she was looking at now was not just similar, but almost identical.
The density of the power, the sense of danger—it felt far stronger even than Basara.
Which meant that man’s identity was...
At that moment, Zero Order spoke.
“Fine. Since we’ve come this far, there’s no need for pretense. My name is Suruna. And you, young lady?”
Zero Order—Suruna—revealed his name and asked for hers.
“...Rine.”
“Rine. Hm. I see. You’re a student of Seorn, aren’t you?”
Rine answered with a small nod.
“As I thought.”
“You know about me?”
“I know of the power you carry. Especially those eyes.”
Suruna pointed at Rine’s eyes as he spoke.
At those words, Rine jolted in shock.
It felt as if a secret she had never told anyone had been laid bare.
“This was not my original plan, but fate is a curious thing. To think I would find what I’ve long sought in a place like this.”
“...What is your purpose?”
“Aren’t you curious?”
Rine’s eyes widened.
“About the origin of the power you possess. Why you were born with such an ability.”
Her image reflected in Suruna’s eyes, curved in delight.
A clumsy girl trying not to show her feelings, but unable to hide them completely.
“I can help you.”
Suruna whispered slyly, like a snake.
Rine’s eyes wavered violently.
* * *
“...Nirva.”
At Nirva’s sudden appearance, Ludger and the others raised their guard at once.
But Nirva seemed oblivious to their reaction. He pulled a book from the nearby shelf and flipped through the pages.
It was a book containing the knowledge, memories, and life of someone who once lived.
Reading it meant consuming one’s own memories—an incredibly dangerous object.
Yet Nirva calmly read it through to the end and closed it with a thud.
“Fascinating, isn’t it.”
He returned the book to its place.
“This place is filled with knowledge of every kind. But only a chosen few may access it.”
I am one of those few.
He did not say it aloud, but his actions made it clear.
“What purpose brings you here? Are you finally planning to act in person?”
That was the only conclusion Ludger could reach.
His minions had been defeated—so for Nirva himself to appear was only natural.
“At first, I did think so.”
“But now?”
“Seeing you make it this far has changed my mind somewhat. I intend to grant you one more chance.”
“A chance, you say?”
The words were galling enough to make Zantman’s brows shoot upward.
“In other words, persuasion. Rather than choosing battle, I propose to offer you help tempting enough to sway you.”
“I can hardly believe that.”
“These books all around us. Desired by all, but feared too much to touch. Do you not wish to read them?”
“What?”
“Why hide it. Any mage—or rather, any human—feels curiosity. Tell me you don’t. For example, that young man there. Hans.”
Hans jumped when Nirva pointed at him.
Not only at being singled out, but because Nirva knew his name, though he had never introduced himself.
“Ah, I see. Surprised I know your name without introductions. But of course. How could the master of the house not know the guest list?”
“You’re not exactly the master. More like a butler, or steward at best.”
“With the master asleep, I am the highest administrator here. Naturally I know your name, your past deeds, and your peculiar constitution of turning into beasts.”
“...!”
Hans’s eyes shook violently.
That cursed constitution, how much suffering it had brought him.
Were it not for this, he could have lived as an ordinary man.
To change against his will was no different from a curse.
For years Hans had searched for a way to rid himself of it.
“You mean... the method is here?”
“Why wouldn’t it be? This is a treasury of knowledge, engraved with the history of all mankind. In ages past, there were certainly others with your condition. And records of how they overcame it.”
“That’s...”
Hans barely restrained his rising excitement.
Not only because he could not tell if Nirva spoke truth, but because he remembered whom he had chosen to trust.
Nirva, noticing, turned his gaze from Hans to Ludger.
“Yes. Ludger Cherish. What about you? You live as a teacher of Seorn, but that’s not the truth, is it? You’re searching desperately for something.”
“Nonsense.”
“Haha. So guarded. Wary enough never to accept words at face value—that is admirable. But am I really speaking falsehoods? Or am I probing your heart with truths?”
Nirva sneered.
Such leisure was not possible without certainty of holding the upper hand.
“You seek a solution for Non-Attributed Mana.”
“......”
“Oh? Not shaken? Then how about this. That the reason you seek it is because of guilt over the child who lost his mother. Would that be accurate?”
Guilt?
At Nirva’s words, all eyes turned to Ludger.
Especially Sedina, who had long paid attention to the subtle bond between Rine and Ludger. Nirva’s words struck her more deeply.
They knew they should not listen to the devil in the guise of an old man.
But each word pierced into their hearts.
“If not that, then how about revenge against the Theocracy of Bretus?”
At that, Zantman frowned in puzzlement.
What could a Seorn teacher have to do with Bretus?
But he did not voice his doubt.
The long years of a mage’s life had taught him enough to sense Ludger’s connection to the Lumenis Church.
“If not that, then perhaps the way to grant rest to one who cannot die?”
Nirva spread his arms wide, as if inviting them to ask anything.
“I can give you all the knowledge you desire.”
“And what is the price of such generosity?”
“Merely that you stay quietly here.”
“That price makes the knowledge worthless. Even if I accept, being trapped in Dreamland renders it meaningless.”
“Then I can let you go outside. I can show at least that much mercy.”
Mercy.
Nirva spoke the word.
Not to deceive or mock, but because he truly believed it was mercy.
If he wished, he could kill them all with his authority here and now.
That he chose instead to negotiate was, in his mind, a great concession.
But such words only worked on those ignorant of the truth.
“Ridiculous. If you let us go, what of the hundreds of thousands still trapped here?”
“That is not your concern.”
“Of course. But I can guess what you intend.”
At that, Nirva’s brow twitched.
Yet he quickly regained composure.
“Is that so?”
“You didn’t gather all these people for a feast. They’re nothing but sacrifices.”
Sacrifices.
The smile vanished from Nirva’s lips.
“To awaken the imprisoned god, you would need at least this many lives.”
“That’s... truly...”
Nirva started to speak, then shook his head.
There was no point denying it any longer.
“Well, well. From where did you realize?”
“From your own steps. Guiding us deeper into Dreamland, while at the same time sending your minions to kill us.”
“I had to thin the herd somewhat.”
“Exactly. Why thin them? Because something important allows no contamination. For example, a ritual requiring purity at its core.”
Nirva did not answer.
He simply stared at Ludger, as if inviting him to continue.
Which was all the more chilling.
Those golden eyes, empty of pupils, revealed nothing of thought or emotion.
The fear of the unknown.
Sedina finally understood why Nirva’s presence always filled her with unease.
“In the depths lies one who slumbers. Bound to a massive obelisk-like stake, immersed in deep sleep. You mean to awaken that being, to reclaim the world.”
“I heard you well. But you made three mistakes.”
“Three, you say.”
“Let me kindly point them out.”
Ludger gestured with his chin, as if to say, go ahead.
“First. My aim is not resurrection. Resurrection is for the dead. One who lives cannot be resurrected. What I seek is to wake Him. These people gathered here will be spent for that alone.”
So it would take hundreds of thousands of lives merely to wake Him.
An incomprehensible scale.
“Second. My aim is not to make the world mine. This world was the Goddess’s to begin with. It was the vile Lumenis that stole it. Returning it to its rightful owner—how is that theft?”
“Fine. And my third mistake?”
“Third.”
Nirva’s face, until now smiling, twisted at last with irritation.
“You refused my final mercy.”
