WETRIED TRANSLATIONS

Wizard of the Abyss

[Translator – Aren]

Chapter 163 - Past (13)

First of all—even if the mask made it hard to tell, I was around 10 years old.

What memories could I possibly recover? To begin with, there were no memories I had lost.

So naturally I replied quite curtly.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about. This is my first time meeting you.”

From my perspective, it wasn’t, but from Azrael’s, it really was the first time.

Seeing me be this blunt, he just shrugged and replied.

"Same here. First time I’ve seen you. It’s been hundreds of years since I last spoke with a Fallen.”

"...Then what do you mean by memories?”

"You know the key. You have the memory of it.”

Azrael thrust the staff he’d been holding into my hand, his words still making no sense.

"And what’s this about a key now?”

"It’s a pass. Someone entrusted their memories to you and gave you a string that allows entry. The moment you see it and memorize it, it gets engraved into your soul. It leaves a trace that I can detect.”

"A pass…?”

A pass to enter memories.

I understood what that meant. And I knew it then…

"...Ah..."

"Looks like something came to mind.”

"Kind of.”

I frowned deeply and nodded.

There was exactly one thing. That string of symbols the future Sharmia had shown me.

In other words—the memories Azrael was offering weren’t mine at all but the Scarlet Abyss Sharmia’s.

"This still doesn’t add up.”

I shook my head, still dumbfounded.

"You wouldn’t have met her. The person who gave you those memories, I mean.”

At this point in time, Azrael had only just met Sharmia.

If he hadn’t received the memories then, the timeline wouldn’t work.

"True."

Azrael nodded easily, agreeing.

"Why would I need to meet her? I’m just one of the Ark’s gates and its caretaker. The vast place I manage doesn’t have only one entrance, nor am I the only caretaker. Another one of us could’ve stored the memories at another point in time.”

"What are you even talking about…?”

"I’m merely borrowing the spell called the Ark. Someone else could’ve stuffed memories into it, but if you know the key, then it’s my responsibility to open it.”

"Do you have to open it?”

"If you don’t want to, then don’t. I have no intention of forcing you. And I’m not here to fight.”

Azrael answered indifferently and sat down.

"But if you’re going to decide, do it quickly. The stew’s probably boiling over by now.”

"..."

Looking at Azrael, who stayed completely unconcerned about all of this, I sorted out the situation in my head.

Scarlet Abyss Sharmia had left something behind for me.

Up to this point, she had been extremely hostile toward me. She’d lured Sharmia toward the Ark, Azrael himself. And in the process, I had been forced to follow, because losing Sharmia was never an option.

She even sent assassins after me. But that wasn’t really to kill me, but an attempt to make Sharmia lose trust in me in order to separate us. And in the process, Azrael appeared here…?

"...?"

...Something felt off.

How should I put it? Rather than all of this being done for Sharmia’s sake, it felt more like everything had been arranged so that Azrael and I would end up alone together.

It was probably just my imagination, but…

"Let me ask you one thing.”

"You’ve already asked a damn ton, and now you’re being all formal about it?”

"...Is looking at memories dangerous?”

"Dangerous, my ass. When you watch a play and a character dies, do you feel physical pain? The act of viewing memories itself is not dangerous at all. What’s truly dangerous is you changing after seeing them.”

"So I can assume it won’t kill me?”

"As long as you don’t get depressed and off yourself after seeing them, sure.”

The moment the pass, the key, had been handed to me, she stopped being a completely indifferent being.

Future Sharmia clearly wanted me to view the memories she had left behind.

'No matter how I look at it, this feels like a trap…’

If she’d gone through all this trouble, using such a roundabout and truly irritating way to lure me here, then the memories she planted almost certainly posed a serious threat to my sanity.

But Azrael’s confidence nudged me toward curiosity.

I didn’t even have enough time and should be actively chasing after Sharmia already. This decision had to be made quickly.

"Hmm, curiosity doesn’t always kill the cat.”

-Scritch, scratch, scritch!

I used the staff to draw the string of symbolism the sentence future Sharmia had shown me, without any further hesitation.

As if he’d expected this, Azrael nodded, rising from where he’d been staring at the dirt.

"The key has been confirmed. I’ll open it.”

"..."

Azrael’s hand touched my head.

I’d felt this sensation before, and it hadn’t been particularly pleasant then either.

The world turned blinding white, then dyed completely black over and over for dozens of times.

The transitions sped up until the world settled into a dull gray.

"Kgh."

Blood burst forth out of my nose.

When I came to, I saw Azrael pulling his hand away, looking quite dumbfounded.

"You’ve popped blood vessels in your eyes. I shoved in almost an entire encyclopedia’s worth of information, you know?”

“Sh-shut up.”

I raised a hand to stop him and rummaged through my mind.

New memories, new memories, new memories…

"There aren’t any."

"Really?"

I had suffered for a full 5 minutes, but not a single unfamiliar memory surfaced.

I looked at Azrael, as if asking for an explanation. He just shrugged and scoffed.

"Well, not my problem anymore.”

"What?"

"I opened the Ark with the key. The rest’s on you. I’ve got stew to check on before it all burns down. I’m off.”

Watching Azrael skip away cheerfully, I briefly considered crushing his head, then let out a sigh and dropped that thought.

There was no time for that. I urgently expanded my Tide Sense, searching for Sharmia, wherever she had ended up.

[B-blood, spreading, east, there]

[---Wait, there is, monster, blood, dying.]

"...?"

That was when I started to hear the deep-sea creatures…

...understanding their language far more precisely than before.

* * *

Deep-sea creatures or not, what mattered most right now was Sharmia.

When I sprinted with everything I had toward where she was, thankfully I wasn’t too late.

Sharmia stood with her head bowed, clutching a dagger.

In front of her lay the corpse of a Knight…or something similar at least.

...Was I too late?

"I-I can’t…”

Thankfully, I really wasn’t.

The dagger was embedded in bare ground. The Knight was only unconscious, and Sharmia, trembling, raised her shaking hands to cover her face as she sobbed.

"I really can’t do it…”

"Your Highness.”

This was a truly critical moment.

I slowly stepped closer, took her wrist from behind, and pulled the dagger out of the ground.

"...?"

"I think you’re misunderstanding something. Even if you kill this Knight here, it wouldn’t be considered murder.”

"Wh-why?”

"You’re going to erase the memory anyway, right?”

And with that same hand, I firmly pressed against the back of the Knight’s neck.

"Ugh..."

Sharmia resisted with all her might.

I leaned in and gently whispered into her ear, guiding her hand.

"If you have no memory of killing her, then it’s as though you didn’t kill her.”

"...That’s just wordplay?”

"Why is that?”

"Just because I don’t remember doesn't mean it never happened.”

"Isn’t that exactly what you’re trying to do right now?”

Sharmia, who was about to refute, froze, mouth agape.

Her goal had been to run away by erasing her memories from the very beginning.

"If the disaster comes anyway, this Knight will die far more horribly if you don’t do it. What you’d be doing here isn’t killing, but granting her salvation. And even the guilt will vanish in a single breath.”

"Wh-what are you trying to do to me?”

"It’s simple. I want to help you achieve what you desire.”

I took her hand again and pressed it downward.

Sharmia still resisted, but with much less strength than before.

"Ugh..."

She had been somewhat persuaded by my logic.

Resignation filled her cowed expression. Just before the dagger could easily pierce through the Knight’s neck…

"...I still can’t.”

Sharmia twisted her hand again, stopping herself.

"This is just too…"

"Too cruel? Leaving her alive would be the crueler act, though.”

"..."

"I won’t tell you to kill everyone in the world. But surely, at the very least, you can end the life right in front of you.”

Seeing Sharmia trembling, unable to continue speaking, made me feel some pity.

She was still a child. Was it right to force her into this simply because she possessed a coin that allowed infinite returns to the past, the mental fortitude to endure it, and the status of princess?

…It wasn’t right, but I couldn’t deny that it was necessary.

I pressed her harder.

"If it pains you so much, you can just leave. I’ll handle it myself.”

"...Why are you helping me? Didn’t you deceive me?”

"As I said before, my purpose is to help you, Princess. Whether you want it or not.”

I took the dagger from her as though snatching it away, pressed it against the Knight’s throat, and offered her some advice.

"If you don’t wish to see it, you should leave first.”

She took a few steps back, about to flee, refusing to face the sight before her, then her lips parted, forming words.

"There’s something I want to ask.”

"Go ahead.”

"...That Knight.”

Sharmia looked down at the Knight with eyes filled with pity.

"She said she grew up in an orphanage, was bought by an assassin, and learned only how to kill people. That no one would accept her, that she was crushed by her sins and dying. She admitted it herself.”

"Then she is a sinner who deserves to die.”

"Yes, she is a sinner. I know that as well… But then was she born just to suffer?”

"She suffers because she was born. There’s nothing strange about that.”

I gently and slowly explained it to her.

"You saw the children begging on the way here, right? Could you find even a fragment of happiness in their lives?”

"...No.”

"This Knight isn’t anything special. Unless you belong to an extreme minority, being born and living is nothing but suffering. And the end is usually tragic. Do you understand?”

What followed was a long silence.

Sharmia blankly stared down at the Knight’s face. For a really long time.

It was as if—she was lost in deep thought.

I needed to persuade the princess at all costs to push her into making a rational decision, to turn her into a sane angel who would struggle desperately to save everyone.

But…

What came out after all that contemplation was something I never expected.

"Can’t we postpone it?”

"What?"

Postpone it? Death?

I couldn’t understand what she meant. Even knowing how sharp she was, it made no sense to me.

But Sharmia was serious.

She quietly met my gaze.

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