Chapter 220: That Day, Him and Me (3)
Morg Snake.
In addition to being a member of the Morg family, he was also a licensed Black Mage registered with the Imperial Army.
12-73062191, which was his military number. This meant that he was a soldier with a guaranteed identity and was under the control and surveillance of the Empire.
But even he had a secret place.
The basement of the Dark Hall's headquarters. A deep underground space that stretched for over 600 floors.
-Level 666 of the Crypt.
It was a place beyond the reach of the Empire, beyond the gaze of the Morg, and known only to the delegates of the Dark Hall.
Walking directly down the spiral staircase that seemed to have no end in sight, Snake spoke to Camus as she followed.
"Young Lady."
"Yes. Master."
"Do you know the origins of the 'Morg'?"
Snake was still using a distant tone.
Camus shook her head, saying nothing in response.
Snake lifted his lantern, illuminating the darkness of the underground.
"The Morg began as a mortuary, a morgue."
"...!"
"It was a small family that specialized in such things, keeping only unidentified corpses."
"Morgue" is a name for a very old bloodline that has been passed down since before humans established the concept of family or nation. The main job of those who inherited this lineage was collecting unidentified corpses and finding relatives.
They would collect bodies that had been mutilated beyond recognition, find the relatives, hand them over, and get compensated.
As a result, they naturally found themselves in the company of the dead, and over time, people who could communicate with the dead gradually appeared.
Whether it was once a power on par with a nation, or decades after its fall, when it was once again called a House of Mage, there was a steady stream of people with this uncanny ability.
Just like the current camel.
"So, technically, the Morgue's origins are very close to the dead. From their earliest beginnings, they spoke to the dead and called upon them."
"... So you've been in touch with the black magic since birth."
"Exactly."
Snake lifted the lantern.
The room was silent and gloomy, like a stone chamber in a deep tomb.
Even the air was chilly against the skin.
Snake's mumbling voice was drowned out by his footsteps, forcing Camus to strain her ears even further.
"And so it is that the Black Mages of Morg know that the truth that a man can seek and understand in a lifetime is but a handful of sand picked up from the shore."
"Then where is most truth?"
"Behind death. Beyond the gates."
It is only by crossing the gates of death that man becomes completely free and eternal.
The infinite truth behind it can be explored.
"Knowing this, magical geniuses who have surpassed the limits of human endeavor will eventually turn to black magic. The more intelligent and accomplished they are, the more easily they are swayed by temptation."
"I suppose I need to familiarize myself with death."
"No. Before that, you must first be wary of death."
"?"
Camus shook her head.
Then Snake turned to her, a serious look on his face.
"Remember, Young lady. A black mage is the one who has the least regard for death."
"Why is that, Master?"
"Because one must first understand and familiarize oneself with life before one can understand and familiarize oneself with death."
Snake's words were grim but sincere.
He turned toward Camus.
"Life. Feelings for others. Love. Friendship. Trust. Organic relationship with all that is in the world. Gratitude for being alive. The preciousness of life. Understand these things first, and only then can you truly understand death, for everything is two-sided."
"Can't we get acquainted with death first?"
"That would be like a bunch of drunken fools imitating a black mage."
" ...that's hard."
"It's hard, very hard."
Contrary to popular belief, a true black mage must be able to love and understand the living more deeply than anyone else.
It is one who loves all things living and pities all things dying.
It's more like an archmage or a saint, as the world calls them.
'So this is what it means to be polar opposites.'
Camus was becoming increasingly interested in black magic.
Not as a means to an end, but as a pure end in itself.
* * *
Some time passed.
Under Snake's guidance, Camus gained knowledge at an incredible rate.
Soon, her skills were beyond recognition.
...Pow!
Black air currents swirled, and a woman with nothing but bones and skin rose from them.
Morg Rose. She was Camus's third cousin, who had been killed in battle against the barbarians.
Camus had used Rose's remains, found while searching the depths, to turn her into a undead soldier.
"Rose!"
Camus and Rose embraced each other.
Because she had been resurrected by high-level black magic, she had only a very low level of intelligence.
Even her magic level was higher than when she was alive.
Meanwhile, Snake, who was watching the scene from the side, was overwhelmed with admiration.
"To think that you've already been able to create a undead soldier, that's quite an accomplishment."
How long had it been since she'd turned to the Black Mage?
It wasn't an exaggeration to say that Camus had already mastered almost every aspect of Black Magic that humans had discovered.
The rest was just something she could conquer as she grew older.
'Maybe this child will be the one to see the end of the black magic discovered by humans.'
Snake thought to himself.
... but.
Camus was looking at something more than just the obvious laying down of the law.
"It's not good enough."
She looked sadly at Rose, then shook her head.
Then she turned to Snake.
"What I'm looking for is a way to fully revive the dead."
" ...that's the realm of humans, and after that, it's the realm of gods."
"The distinction between human and god is meaningless in the face of what must be done."
At the same time, Camus unfolded a large piece of paper in front of Snake.
It was a drawing of incredibly intricate and detailed shapes.
Snake's eyes widened as if they were about to tear apart.
"What is this?"
"The Magic Circle of Full Revival. The result of my own research."
Hearing Camus's calm words, a chill ran down Snake's spine.
It was several steps more advanced than the one that had resurrected Rose just a moment ago. No matter how many times he opened it, it still looked perfect.
Snake turned his head towards the young genius in front of him.
A mixture of emotions sprouted in him. Pride, jealousy, fear, affection, and sadness.
What was he looking for in that face that looked so much like 'her' from the past?
Snake has been in and out of the depths of the Abyss of Magic, but he's never been inside his own mind, so he doesn't know.
He could only ask questions.
"Is a man named Vikir that good?"
"...."
Camus didn't answer. It just nodded slowly.
Snake nodded as well.
"Very well, if that's what you want."
He hadn't expected to say the words he'd spoken to 'a woman' so long ago, when he'd ascended to the Master of the Dark Hall, to her child so many decades later.
The two genius black mages put their heads together at the table.
"Since we have no remains of the person we wish to save, what do you propose to do about that?"
"We've enlisted the cooperation of the Baskervilles to gather some blood and hair. There may also be fragments of his soul mixed in with the unspecified number of spirits we summoned from the depths."
"I see, if there are fragments of his body, then there will be fragments of his soul as well, so we can sort them out then."
Not just a corpse that moved at will, but a corpse with memories and a personality.
No, at that point it was no longer a corpse.
Snake opened his mouth.
"Do you know the paradox of 'Ship of Theseus'? Even if he regains his body, memories, and personality, it is a question that needs to be considered."
"It's never too late to ponder such existential questions after success, Master."
With that, Camus and Snake began to imbue their drinks and ingredients with mana.
The circle of magic fired up.
Countless complex shapes glowed.
The ingredients at their center.
35 liters of water, 20 kilograms of carbon, 4 liters of ammonia, 1.5 kilograms of lime, 800 grams of phosphorus, 250 grams of salt, 100 grams of potassium nitrate, 80 grams of sulfur, 7.5 grams of fluorine, 5 grams of iron, 3 grams of silicon, 15 other trace elements, and memories of blood and flesh... All of which began to emit a foul stench, heat, and smoke.
...Wait, stench?
Camus's expression stiffened for a moment.
According to the theory, it was supposed to smell like human flesh at this time.
But now it smelled like rotting flesh, a horrible stench.
'Failure!'
Camus knew in her gut. She didn't know what had gone wrong, or how, but she knew the result.
But there was nothing she could do about the circle that had already been activated.
Then, from the center of the circle, something strange began to rise.
...! ...! ...! ...! ...!
I couldn't tell what it was, but at least it wasn't Vikir.
That thing must not be allowed to leave the circle.
Camus gritted her teeth and gathered her mana, trying to catch the spilled water again.
But it wasn't enough.
...Boom!
The magic circle shattered and the mana flowed back.
"Young lady!"
Snake's shout rang in my ears.
The price of failure is death. What else could it be?
Camus felt the power of her entire body release.
She sees a door in front of her. Wide open.
Camus's body was being pulled through it of its own accord. Beyond, into a vast abyss of stars and gas clouds. Like dust.
'Is this death.'
Camus surrendered herself to the flowing water with a blank expression.
She didn't know why the spell had failed. Was it because the fragments of Vikir's flesh were too old? Or was his spirit absent from the depths?
Perhaps he has already turned his back on this world and attained Buddhahood?
Then I felt pity for myself. The person who remained in this world, suffering and struggling alone.
Maybe it would be easier to follow him through that gate at this point.
... right then.
Flutter!
A figure stood in Camus's way.
A figure stood in the door, his black cloak flapping. Morg Snake.
Without looking back, he spoke to Camus.
"Go back."
Camus looked up.
Snake spoke again.
"Your picnic is not over yet, so go back and say it was beautiful."
Snake took a step without hesitation toward the other side of the door called by the dawn, dew, sunset, and clouds in the abyss.
'I hope you become a black mage who can love life.'
That was it.
At the same time.
...bang!
As soon as Snake disappeared beyond the door, it closed.
He went in and closed the door.
Poof!
The abyss stopped pulling Camus in.
Boom!
With a loud explosion, Camus rolled across the floor.
"Cough!"
Blood spewed from her mouth.
Camus came to his senses.
"... Master!?"
But her head doesn't turn. His entire body is as stiff as stone.
Then something came into view.
It was Snake, sitting on the ground with his eyes closed.
To my astonishment, his skin, which had been so vibrant just moments before, had turned to dry parchment.
In an instant, his body was reduced to bone and flesh. All of his life force had been drained.
"...."
Camus felt tears well up in her eyes.
She could see nothing through her cloudy, wet vision.
Snake was dead.
He had taken most of the rebound penalty for his mana rampage to keep him alive.
Camus sobs slightly, remembering all the years she spent learning magic from her master.
But she couldn't sob at will.
Even Snake hadn't been able to bear the full impact.
That alone had killed half her brain and half her body.
She had lost her sister, her lover, and her teacher. Was this the result of turning her back on her mother and uncle?
She lost all her loved ones around her. She went from the highest to the lowest. A doll who can do nothing but cry and regret the past.
An underground cave that is now deserted. A tomb so deep and lonely that the only person left in it was a dead girl who hadn't died yet, sobbing her heart out.
... Just then.
An unidentifiable voice called out.
[Little girl, why don't you make a contract with me?]
It was a temptation as sweet as the first taste of honey.
She tried to move to see what it was, but her semi-immobilized body wouldn't budge.
[I can give you power].
Instead, it manifested itself into her consciousness.
A giant hand stretched out toward her.
[The power to reunite you with your loved ones.]
It was a hand that the drowning Camus had no choice but to face.
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