Wizard of the Abyss - Chapter 83

WETRIED TRANSLATIONS

Wizard of the Abyss

[Translator – Aren]

Chapter 83 - Lineage (2)

Dercia didn’t use her door teleportation.

More accurately, she couldn’t.

"I am still capable of making sound decisions.”

Sitting perfectly upright inside the rattling carriage, she lowered her gaze quietly.

"And what do you mean by sound decisions?”

"That I may very well repeat the same mistake. Because I still believe your thoughts are foolish.”

"..."

Seeing my face twist into a bizarre expression, Dercia quickly added,

"To be precise, this is what the current me thinks.”

"And what does that mean?”

"My Lady has her reasons for intentionally keeping herself in a constant state of exhaustion.”

Ciel, clearing her throat, added,

"You’ve probably noticed by now, but elves as a species can’t exactly be called normal.”

"...Yeah, I think so.”

In the past, elves had conquered every corner of the continent, using their longevity and overwhelming talent to their fullest.

Azrael had appointed himself as their shepherd and chose to hold every elf's memory.

But it was the elves who accepted that arrangement. They handed over their very identities, choosing a life worse than death.

And Dercia…there was no need to say anything more.

Elves were simply out of their minds. That much I deeply understood.

"But if you examine their behavior, they have a single thing in common, don’t you think?”

"One thing in common?”

I pondered over everything I had come to know.

But all I could come up with is that there were just a bunch of lunatics.

"...I have no clue. If I had to come up with something, it’s probably that they are all living in quite the efficient livestock pen, since all the cattle willingly put their own nose rings on. Or something like that?”

"As expected, you’re smart.”

"?"

Ciel nodded as if I had given the right answer.

"Elves aren’t born that way. Over time, they learn more, see more, and naturally discover more optimal methods. Enough years piled together turns every elf into the exact same being.”

"The same…being?”

"Yes. Any elf who lives long enough eventually speaks the same, acts the same, and makes the same choices in any situation. Whether they studied magic or swordsmanship. Because—”

"Because that’s the most efficient way…right?”

"Yes."

As I mulled over the meaning of her words, I couldn’t stop myself from asking,

"...Hold on, that’s basically saying immortality is a curse for any intelligent life-form, isn’t it?”

"That’s a refreshing perspective. But ultimately, the line between a curse and a blessing only depends on whether you’re the minority or the majority. If all intelligent species lived as long as we do, then short lifespans would become the true curse, don’t you think?”

I gave Dercia a look filled with pity before turning back to Ciel.

"...We absolutely cannot send her back to the capital like this.”

"Indeed. Even if you did beat some sense into her, she’s still in quite the dazed state. If she went back like this, she’d definitely cause more trouble.”

"Aha. So the savior Azrael is waiting for—”

"An elf born with a mind that doesn’t converge even after ages pass. That’s what he’s waiting for.”

So that shaman is basically waiting for a sunrise that will never come.

Poor guy. That thought crossed my mind just as Brimdal, arms folded, nodded in agreement.

"That explains the background of all of this. But there’s one thing I still don’t understand.”

"What is it?”

Dercia’s tone toward Brimdal seemed slightly sullen.

She didn’t really have the right to openly complain in her current state, but it was obvious she still had lingering displeasure about me becoming his disciple. Well, once she lowers her sanity again, she probably won’t care anymore.

"We dwarves also live long lives. Not as long as elves, but long enough. So why don’t we suffer from that madness you experience?”

"Jern was assuming mentally normal beings. Dwarves are…a bit different.”

"What’s that supposed to mean?”

"You lot spend a thousand years hammering metal into tools and die perfectly content, right? In other words, you're somewhat peculiar? Underdeveloped? Primitive? Something along those lines.”

"..."

"Unfortunately, we cannot do that. 10 years of hammering iron would drive any elf mad.”

Brimdal was actually about to draw his sword. I barely managed to stop him.

"Umm…”

Meanwhile, the still-sleeping Linmel shifted around in her seat inside the carriage.

I gently laid her on her side so she wouldn’t wake up. She had been a huge help. It was a good thing that I didn’t end up sending her away.

Patting Linmel’s head, I quelled the overheated atmosphere.

"So, is what Azrael said credible at all?”

"...Hmm."

"Hard to say.”

Brimdal, Ciel, and even Dercia.

All three of them wore serious, troubled expressions.

What Azrael had told me really was bizarre in every way.

"I had maids?”

"Not just maids. You actually looked like, how do I put this—like a prince of some nation.”

"What—a prince?”

"Yes. Not the Empire, though. What was that crest? Hmm… I’ve seen something like it in the eastern region… Ah, and the surroundings were a desert.”

"??"

"One year old, two years old, three, four… Hmm, someone who seems to be your uncle or something takes you away somewhere. And that’s it.”

"What do you mean, that's it?”

"I don’t know. Your memory cuts off there. Probably died. When someone dies, their memories stop, so it ends up like this.”

"I’m alive though.”

"The next memory is you in the orphanage. So, well, something similar, I guess. As for the torture or whatever you were so eager to uncover. I can’t see any of that.”

That was basically how that conversation went.

No matter how many times I asked for details, nothing new came up.

Naturally, my suspicion leaned in a different direction.

"I think Azrael just said whatever nonsense came to his mind.”

"And why do you think that?”

"Let me ask something in return. So you honestly see me as some noble’s kid?”

"That much is certain.”

Dercia cleared her throat and stated with clear conviction.

"Natural-born mages don’t just show up out of nowhere. They’re extremely rare. Maybe not royal, but they had to have at least noble blood running in their veins; that much is clear.”

"It’s still strange.”

This wasn’t something I could just accept as some weird birth secret.

There was an obvious question that came to my mind.

"Then why did no one come looking for me?”

There was no reasonable explanation for that.

"Noble or royal—if they lost someone like me, they would have tried to reach out somehow, right? It’s not like I was hidden away in some remote area. I was literally in an orphanage attached to the Imperial Capital. And if I wasn’t lost but abandoned, then they should’ve tracked me down to eliminate me to prevent any future trouble. If not that, then they would have at least come to find me in some way.”

"You are correct.”

Dercia nodded in agreement.

"If the nation truly was surrounded by a desert, then it’s certainly far away, but even then, if a nation’s prince went missing, there was no way they wouldn't have contacted the Empire in some way. Even if they heard about someone with the same hair color as their missing prince, that would have prompted them to send people to search. Yet as far as my memory goes… I’ve never once heard of any prince going missing from any country.”

"Hmm…”

The two of us leaned forward, thinking hard.

"What if they weren’t an actual royal family but some insane clan pretending to be one?"

"Jern. I appreciate your imagination and commend your ability to be open to all possibilities, but this is not a situation where that skill is necessary.”

"Right."

We went back to thinking. Still, my mind felt oddly at ease.

Having a 9-star mage seriously worrying about my problems felt reassuring.

Of course, Brimdal might not lose to Dercia physically, but when it came to pure intellect, she was the one who unconditionally came out on top.

"...Wait, why in the world are you two even thinking this hard?”

Brimdal frowned, as if he had just read my mind or something.

"The answer is pretty obvious, isn’t it?”

"Obvious?"

When I looked at him with confusion, he held up the drawing.

It was what the princess had given me, depicting me as a baby and someone who is presumed to be my mother holding me.

"The princess who gave you this should know something, right?”

"..."

Both Dercia and I widened our eyes at the same time.

We hadn’t even considered that.

Or more like we didn’t want to consider it.

"Hmm. Maybe we should just forget about my past?”

I suggested cautiously.

If it meant getting involved with that princess, maybe leaving it as a red herring wouldn’t be the worst thing.

"I wouldn’t mind, but I wasn’t digging into your past just for the sake of it. It’s because your past is certainly tied to Scarlet Abyss.”

"Yeah. True.”

"But when you encountered Scarlet Abyss, none of them recognized you. Not even one of the executives.”

"...That’s also true, right?”

The Lump, Decay, and all the others.

None of them thought that I was one of their creations.

"Hmm, maybe I was a failed experiment they threw away…”

"Your inner world is far too vast for that to be the case. They definitely performed some advanced procedure on you.”

"..."

The more I listened, the fewer things added up.

The completeness of my inner world, its size.

This world wasn’t something that could just form because someone tossed a kid into the ocean.

My memories were cut.

I might be some prince from another kingdom.

But they don’t know me.

"...Something…feels off.”

Everything felt like it should fit into a single picture, yet every piece was just slightly wrong.

Dercia, watching me struggle with all of this, finally spoke up.

"The choice is yours. But if you want my opinion. Your past carries a major secret that connects you to Scarlet Abyss. That much I’m certain of.”

"Yeah, I think so too.”

"What will you do?”

For how short it was, that question held many different implications.

Would I willingly step into the maw of a prophet who could read my every move the moment I got involved with her?

Or would I ignore it all, leaving behind the uncomfortable aftertaste the unknown carried, and focus only on what lies ahead?

I thought about it for a long time.

But the answer was actually quite simple.

With a sigh, I looked up at the ceiling of the carriage.

"Are you watching?”

"Jern?”

Ignoring Dercia’s baffled look, I continued.

"I’ll come find you soon."

If she was watching, she should have heard my words.

If she wasn’t, well…

I was at least sure that she held some certainty about my identity.

* * *

Tap, tap...

"...?"

A maid walking through the palace’s marble hallways toward the storage room in the early dawn suddenly froze.

It wasn’t because she saw an intruder, or an assassin, or anything suspicious.

It was because she realized something about herself.

"Why am I here…?”

Mumbling blankly as if she were in a trance, she shook her head violently to regain her composure.

No—that was dangerous.

The hallway to the storage room was watched by guards. If she were seen here, she could be arrested as a thief. Even executed on the spot without anyone even listening to her explanation.

And she had absolutely no idea why she came here to begin with.

"I-I should better leave…”

She tried to step back, thinking she should return quickly.

But her feet didn’t move as if they had been firmly planted into the ground.

It wasn’t because she hesitated. It was like they were literally stuck in the ground.

"...!"

She looked down to see her feet frozen solid up to her ankles.

"Ungh, nngh...!"

She struggled with all her might, but the steel-hard mass of ice didn’t budge.

After a fruitless struggle that lasted far too long, a voice colder than the ice keeping her feet in place reached her ears.

"What a distasteful hobby.”

"Ah."

This time, it was unmistakably an intruder. An assassin. A suspicious presence.

A man sat perched on the window ledge, staring at her with clear displeasure.

She had to scream. She had to for his sake.

As her jaw stretched wide, sounds flowed out.

"No, seriously, how is this supposed to be safe…?”

The maid let out a long, cynical sigh and scratched her head in an exaggerated gesture.

"You think I actually know stuff like the rules maids should follow or something? It’s way easier to leave things to her and just act on autopilot. If I try learning anything else, my memory dumps half of it anyway.”

"I see."

"Of course, now that things turned out like this, I’ll have to throw ‘this one’ away. Kind of a shame. I liked this one. So—you’d better have a reason, and a good one, for wasting my time like this.”

"There is. More than enough.”

Decay glared at the maid—no, at the Lump merely pretending to be her—his tone chilling.

"You acted alone."

"..."

"And you defied Great Void’s orders.”

"...Heh."

The maid gave a small laugh.

"Sorry. I thought I could pull it off, so I gave it a go… and it worked better than I expected. Then I got carried away and—”

"Enough. Offer it.”

"..."

"Even with your deplorable memory, you remember the rules. If not—I can always make you remember.”

The maid’s smile vanished. Her hand twisted into a shape no human body should be able to make.

Decay simply stared down at her, not even breathing.

After several minutes of this standoff, it was the maid who finally sighed.

"...Fine. I’ll give it. Happy? Isn't this a bit hard for a tiny prank like that?”

"Remember this well. There is a great difference between important and necessary. There will not be a next time.”

Decay vanished in a blink.

And with him the ice also vanished. The Lump that had taken over the maid sighed and headed for the rooftop.

It needed this world’s magic to dispose of the now-useless body.

"Can’t be helped, I guess…"

The Lump laughed lightly as it brushed itself off.

It had expected this. From the start, it understood this was the price.

And even knowing that, it still did it.

Because it was fun.

It was more than worth it. For the first time in ages, the Lump felt its heart beat with excitement.

That young Fallen Decay had set his eyes on…

Those eyes, as cold and deep as the deep sea, yet burning with resolve, declaring his intention of killing it, and that unshakable confidence were truly hard to fathom.

It was to the point that it was hard to believe that he was still just 10. Everything about him was simply fascinating.

The expense was more than worth it for having found something so entertaining.

"Heh, hehe…”

It knew it had to wait, but suppressing the excitement was just so difficult.

Forcing down the smile tugging at its lips as it climbed upward, the Lump encountered an unexpected figure.

"Ah."

"Hmm?"

A small, delicate boy.

The prince of this kingdom, accompanied by two guards, was descending from the spire.

"Ah, hello. Hehe…”

"Yes, Your Highness.”

Even if the Lump knew nothing about this kingdom’s laws, it understood enough to bow in a situation like this.

The prince, who looked no older than 10, gave an awkward, shy smile.

He was an innocent, foolish, untainted child, possessing almost otherworldly purity.

Glancing at that defenseless face, the Lump thought that this brat would probably die within five minutes if thrown into the wild. But then a small question formed in the Lump’s mind.

'That face…’

It felt like he had seen it somewhere.

In fact, it was a face it knew quite well, having helped create this prince to begin with.

'Hmm, but…'

Neatly kept hair. Eyes always filled with anxiety. Shrunken shoulders. A trembling expression.

The Lump shrugged as it looked at the boy’s white hair.

"Must have been mistaken."

It had no memory of ever seeing such a weak, timid child.

The next day, a trivial incident shook the kingdom. A maid well known for her kindness toward everyone suddenly committed suicide.

For three days, the other maids of the kingdom whispered their theories and doubts about this incident.

But not long after, she was completely forgotten.

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