Chapter 158:The Scale (3)
My frustration reached its peak. As expected, the Divine Cult had been incredibly thorough in their preparations.
Even if their so-called “ultimate weapon” failed to defeat the Mage King, they had a backup—a final failsafe for the final scenario.
“I won’t need to use this. The Lamp of Estia is already relegated to being a glorified nightlight.”
“My duty ends with revealing the true nature of the Scale. Its use is entirely up to your will,” the thunder giant replied.
“Fine, you damn relic babysitter. Since you’re not claiming your task is done, I’ll ask a few questions first.”
I glanced at Carisia. I couldn’t help but feel exasperated, speaking my mind without much thought.
Who knew what she might think upon hearing the phrase “sacrificing to claim destiny.” This relic, left behind as the Divine Cult’s last resort against the Mage King, held power capable of erasing even the White Light Tower.
“If the price is steep enough, that is.”
The cost of defying destiny couldn’t be paid with mere gold and jewels. It required something of equivalent weight to alter the natural order.
The simplest payment would be the life of someone with sufficient power.
“First thing tomorrow, I need to hide this Scale somewhere out of reach.”
I couldn’t afford to lose my life, nor could I risk Carisia’s. My death was out of the question for obvious reasons, and while Carisia’s death might shatter the White Light Tower, it would make dealing with the Mage King afterward impossible. Neither outcome was acceptable.
With my mind set on concealing the Scale, I finally spoke up.
***
“You…”
“Are you trying to nitpick something irrelevant again? If it’s not critical, hold your tongue—I need to think of my questions.”
The giant’s booming voice ignored my protest.
“You exceed the expectations we envisioned when creating the relic. More precisely, we could not foresee that two beings of such immense ability would arrive together.”
Judging by its persistence, it seemed the giant’s remarks were important. For now, I decided to hear it out.
“Thus, during the process of pulling you into the Scale’s judgment and the unforeseen developments during said judgment….”
Its tone was ominous. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Carisia briefly avert her gaze.
“I was forced to exceed the limits permitted to my soul’s imprint within the Scale. I bore the burden meant for the Scale itself. While I will answer your questions to the best of my ability, some gaps in my memory may persist. I ask for your understanding.”
“Ah, hell.”
***
Carisia had been reveling in a vague, buoyant sense of happiness following the giant’s declaration that she and Orthes regarded each other equally. But the follow-up made her break into a cold sweat.
The “unforeseen development” during the judgment was all too obvious.
“Uh… Orthes?”
For the first time since founding Hydra Corporation, Carisia’s voice lacked its usual confidence.
Orthes scratched his head, his expression clearly troubled. Before Carisia could say anything further, Orthes cut her off.
“It’s fine.”
“What?”
“What else can we do? It’s not like I pulled us into this bizarre situation. Considering your temper, we should be thankful this place hasn’t been blasted to oblivion yet.”
Normally, Carisia would retort with something like, “What’s wrong with my temper?” But this time, she stayed silent.
Her emotions were a mix of relief at Orthes’ forgiveness and annoyance at how he seemed to view her personality.
To defuse the tension, Orthes redirected his attention to the giant.
“What’s the deal with the novel?”
“…Novel?”
“The story you spread in my world—the prophecy about the Mage King’s return in 2077!”
“You have already identified its nature,” the giant replied.
“What does that mean?”
The giant explained slowly. It had transmitted a “prophecy” to another world.
The prophecy was a secret observation by the most gifted members of the Phoibos Cult, who sacrificed their lives and souls to glimpse a vision of the Mage King—his defeat and inevitable return.
“The prophecy flowed into your world in the form of inspiration for a creator. From this, the ‘novel’ you speak of was written.”
“And why did reading that novel pull me into this world?”
“To witness is to recognize existence; mere observation carries ritual significance. Among those who read the prophecy, you were the most—”
The giant hesitated, choosing its words carefully.
The space created by the relic was a direct connection between souls. Ideally, it allowed for the purest exchange of ideas, bypassing the need for language.
However, Orthes’ mental defenses were unyielding.
Carisia, being fundamentally opposed to the relic’s nature, was beyond its influence entirely.
The giant struggled to convey its meaning effectively.
The will to rise against the grand design of the Mage King. The ability to conceive plans greater than the grand design—or to tear apart the canvas of destiny itself. The capacity to twist the prophecy’s vision through sheer ingenuity.
There was no word in the giant’s era that encapsulated all of this. But Orthes’ surface consciousness offered a suitable modern term. The giant borrowed it.
“—a natural disruptor.”
“What?”
“You are unrivaled in sowing disruption between heaven and earth.”
***
“For centuries, you have shattered laws, dismantled order, and proven uncontrollable. Thus, you were destined to veer off the path of our plans.”
Carisia could tell Orthes’ blood pressure spiked at the giant’s evaluation. He clearly didn’t take kindly to being labeled a chaos agent.
Deciding to give Orthes a moment, Carisia turned her attention to the giant’s words.
“Just because he read the prophecy, he got swept into the Divine Cult’s plans….”
To Carisia, it felt no different from a curse. A curse indiscriminately cast upon anyone who glimpsed the prophecy.
Having developed magic with similar principles herself,¹ she understood it well. Other readers of the novel hadn’t been pulled into this world because they didn’t meet the “threshold.”
In the Scale’s judgment, Carisia’s “wish” placed on the right side of her scale had been the destruction of the White Light Tower.
Now, she could guess what Orthes’ “wish” had been.
“Returning home.”
If Orthes wished to return after everything was over, Carisia wasn’t sure how she would respond.
***
“How can you insult someone you just met like that? I’m polite to everyone just to avoid complaints!”
“Accept it. This is reality, nothing more.”
After railing against the giant for some time, Orthes clicked his tongue.
“Fine, your opinion is noted. But for the record, I’m a diligent, orderly person—not a disruptor.”
“Embrace your nature.”
“Oh, shut up.”
Taking a deep breath, Orthes decided to move on to more pressing questions.
“How accurate is the prophecy, anyway? Because so far, it seems pretty off.”
“Naturally. This prophecy glimpsed a future that would unfold if you did not exist.”
“And what about the Mage King? From what I’ve seen of his personality, it doesn’t match the novel at all.”
“Has it improved? Or worsened?”
“The Mage King in the novel seemed better, honestly.”
The giant fell silent. Betrayal might have worsened his disposition, but there was no clear reason for it to improve.
“Perhaps I cannot say, whether due to my fragmented soul or lack of precedent. What vision of this world did the prophecy convey?”
“Accurate enough. Let me rephrase: under what circumstances does the prophecy fail?”
“Predictions targeting events too distant or entities too powerful tend to lose accuracy. However, the Phoibos Cult painstakingly overcame such limitations.”
“Entities too powerful, huh? Was the prophecy flawed simply because its subject was the Mage King—”
A sudden thought struck Orthes. Perhaps the Divine Cult never truly understood what they were up against.
A false god who reshaped the world over millennia. A god of magic.
The Mage King had called himself merely a king, even succumbing to his disciples.
Orthes and Carisia only dared to call him a “god” because of Kaicle’s research.
The hypothesis equating ascendants with deities had led to the creation of the Artificial Commandments.
The Divine Cult didn’t know the Mage King’s true nature.
“Can prophecy uncover the will of a god?”
“Divinity lies beyond prophecy’s reach.”