[The true gods have been dethroned.]
A voice whispers in Alon’s ear.
It’s unclear whether it belongs to a man, a woman, a child, or an elder; the sound is distorted, like bizarre static.
Alon, who had experienced a similar phenomenon once before, soon realized that his body was now floating alone in a place resembling the deep sea he had seen earlier.
[The original gods who lost their thrones were deprived of many things.]
The static-filled voice continued in a low tone.
[Someone lost their name.]
[Someone lost their body.]
[Someone lost their mind.]
[Someone lost their honor.]
[Many lost things and were robbed.]
[The dark beings plundered much.]
As Alon tried to focus on this mysterious voice, which seemed capable of driving him mad if he let his guard down for even a moment, he suddenly felt a sense of confusion.
According to what he knew, when one looked into a mirror, one had to face the truth.
However, in his vision, there was only a void darker than the deep sea, with nothing but the static-laden voice resounding.
‘What on earth is this?’
Alon tried to speak, but unfortunately, his voice did not come out as he intended. The moment he sensed this strangeness—
[It is Bevvelnatbyandtteumlooknyeokkwaengddeungneongmeutneumveldekmalkbim
-]
“I”
The voice, now filled with even harsher static, rang in his ears so violently that he instinctively raised his hands to block them.
Huu-
[-
Veldeknatgutdeungrongmubkwaengryotgatchyumdabe.]
The eerie sound, as if it would rob him of his hearing, continued as though it were directly piercing into his mind.
And then,
[So, it is still not time.]
With a faint noise,
[Eliminate the one in hiding, the one who was deprived.]
By the time Alon heard this again,
[Feast (食)-]
he finally saw it.
[For now—]
What he faced was neither the deep sea nor the abyss.
It was countless nebulae at the edge of his vision.
[For the sake of greatness, I will withhold words.]
Alon stared blankly ahead, entranced by what he had mistaken for the abyss until now.
As he ‘recognized’ what appeared to be the abyss, static began to invade his vision as well.
A single point of his vision.
Half of his vision.
His entire vision filled with static.
And Alon witnessed it.
The ‘eye’ that was staring at him.
An eye, as if filled with nebulae, residing within the abyss.
And then,
[Close your eyes.]
At its command—
“Gasp—!”
He instinctively gasped and repeatedly blinked his startled eyes, only to find himself back at the deep-sea observatory.
The observer standing before Alon asked with a deeply concerned expression,
“Are… are you okay?”
As Alon momentarily furrowed his brow at the observer’s startled face, he realized his eyes were damp. He glanced into a mirror.
There, he saw himself bleeding from his eyes, nose, and mouth.
###
A little later.
“Yes.”
“As expected, it’s not an ordinary situation, is it?”
Alon, having wiped away the blood, heard this from the observer.
She seemed uncertain about how to explain things and, after some hesitation, spoke with a peculiar expression,
“So, you’re saying that someone spoke to you when you looked into the mirror?”
“Yes.”
“I heard the story there.”
“Yes, it was definitely about the gods—”
“Wait, don’t say any more than that.”
“…Was I not supposed to mention it?”
“Yes. Whether here or elsewhere, it’s better not to talk about that. Unless you want to see those things clinging to the roots crawling out.”
The observer let out a sigh.
“Anyway, you saw a large, noise-covered entity inside the mirror, right?”
“Yes.”
At Alon’s nod, she paused for a moment before speaking.
“Let me clarify something first. The mirror you looked into earlier is called a ‘bronze mirror that records history.’ As the name suggests, its function is to show the recorded history it stores.”
“Then, normally—”
“Normally, you should have seen the history displayed by the bronze mirror. Its ability is strictly limited to that. But you—”
The observer hesitated briefly before continuing.
“It seems you saw something else.”
“…What do you mean by ‘something else’?”
“I can’t explain it. Even as an observer, I can’t identify an entity that can break into the bronze mirror’s abilities and control it at will.”
Alon looked again at the bronze mirror in his hand, hoping its power might activate this time.
But, unfortunately, after witnessing the strange phenomenon earlier, nothing else occurred when he looked into the mirror.
It felt as if the mirror itself was refusing to show anything more.
Realizing this, Alon sighed and set the mirror down, prompting the observer to continue her explanation.
“One thing is certain: you encountered an entity beyond your capacity. Given that you bled profusely and all words were distorted by noise, it’s clear.”
“So, seeing an entity beyond one’s capacity leads to such results?”
“If the difference in rank is significant, yes. I can’t even tell what’s happening right now.”
The observer shifted her gaze from the bronze mirror back to Alon.
“At this point, there’s not much more I can do to help.”
“…That’s unfortunate. I didn’t even get half the information I wanted.”
“There is one thing I can deduce from your words.”
“…What is it?”
“It’s likely that the ‘deprived one’ you encountered refers to an Outer God. And it seems that what you saw might have been trying to protect you.”
“Protect me?”
It was a word that felt unnatural given the recent events.
As Alon appeared confused, the observer collected her thoughts and continued speaking.
“I told you, didn’t I? The bronze mirror shows history.”
“Yes.”
“But not everyone sees the same history. The starting point differs.”
“The starting point differs?”
The observer pointed to the bronze mirror.
“Most of those who look into this mirror typically see the era of the Forgotten Gods as the base history. But a select few can even see beyond that, into a more distant past.”
As Alon listened, he asked a question.
“Are you saying there’s a history that predates the era of the Forgotten Gods?”
“I haven’t seen it myself, but I believe there is.”
“Why is that?”
“My predecessor, my mentor, saw that past and left a will before passing away.”
Her voice became tinged with bitterness as she murmured, “Never look into the past before the era of the gods.”
“It was an absurd death. Suddenly being shown a past that had remained hidden despite using the mirror dozens of times, and then dying.”
“…Just looking into a further past can kill someone?”
“Yes. If one’s rank is not suitable, it’s inevitable.”
She added,
“If you had seen the past, bleeding from your eyes, nose, and mouth wouldn’t have been the end of it. You would have either died, bleeding from every pore, or become incapacitated, even if you were lucky.”
“…”
“I’m not sure of the exact criteria for seeing the past, but if you were able to glimpse the primordial past like my mentor did, it’s practically the same as being saved.”
“Could it be unrelated to that?”
“No, I think it is.”
The observer, looking at the bronze mirror in Alon’s hand, spoke,
“When my mentor saw the primordial past and died, the bronze mirror lost its power for about a year. Just like now.”
There was a hint of unknown anger and longing in her eyes.
After a brief pause, she continued,
“For now, I’ll send you back outside. With the mirror having lost its power, there’s nothing more you can do here. Perhaps in a year, things might be different.”
“…Alright, I’ll leave it to you.”
Alon boarded the sphere that the observer had created and was sent back outside the chamber.
“May I ask you one more question?”
“What is it?”
“…This isn’t related to what I heard earlier, but I heard it while dealing with the Outer God. Do you know anything about the ‘Star-Eater’?”
He asked her this question.
###
After Alon disembarked, Felin and Penia also landed on the Syphra Archipelago.
In addition to investigating the mermen, they were there to look into the illegal distribution of goods from the Blue Tower.
Officially, the tower’s goods were only handled by authorized contractors. Felin and Penia were there to investigate the distribution of illegal goods as well.
“Ugh, this is so annoying. Why do I, of all people, have to do this just because I’m a deputy tower lord?”
Seeing Penia revert to her usual self and dragging her staff along while looking utterly exhausted, Felin thought,
‘As expected.’
His suspicions about Count Palatio had largely dissipated after witnessing the count’s impressive magic during the battle with the mermen a week ago.
The reason Felin was reminded of the count when looking at Penia was not due to curiosity about why she was so deferential toward him, but rather due to a deeper question—no, a certainty.
After observing Penia for a while, Felin finally spoke,
“Sister.”
“Why are you talking to me when it’s scorching hot?”
Penia responds irritably.
“Can I ask you something?”
“What is it?”
As he looks at her,
“Do you, by any chance, like Count Palatio?”
Felin casually throws out the question.
And then—
Smack!
“Ugh!”
Without breaking her stride, Penia smacks the back of Felin’s head.
Felin looks at her, surprised and a bit bewildered.
“Wait, why did you suddenly hit me—”
But before he could finish, Penia slaps the back of his head again.
“Ugh, it’s already unbearably hot, and you’re getting on my nerves! Are you trying to die, you idiot!?”
Like a volcano erupting, she grabs Felin by the hair and starts pounding his side with her other hand.
“Ow! Ow! Sister!? Why suddenly!?”
“Like? Do I like him? Is that even a question!? Why would I like Count Palatio?!”
“No, I just thought you always seem so reserved when you’re around him…!”
“You idiot, I’ve always been reserved!”
“No, you weren’t always—”
“Stop spewing nonsense! Why on earth would I like him?! How did you even come to that conclusion?!”
“So, you don’t like him?”
“I have no reason to like him in the first place! Why would I like Count Palatio—”
Penia, seemingly even angrier at Felin’s confused expression, picks up the pace of her punches.
Realizing he might have really crossed the line, Felin instinctively tries to apologize, but—
“I do, like him.”
“…?”
Suddenly, Penia stops her punches and mutters those words.
Felin, clutching his throbbing side, stares at her in confusion.
“I do… I do like him, yes, I like him.”
He notices her gaze trembling and directed toward something.
When he turns his head, there stands Count Palatio, silently watching Penia and Felin with an expressionless face.
And then—
“I… I love you…?”
Penia’s sorrowful, melancholic voice echoes in Felin’s ears.
Cliche Novel 