The interior of the reception room was filled with the heavy scent of roses. A red carpet lay strewn about in disarray, and blood dripped from the lamp on the ceiling. It scattered a crimson light, dyeing the space red.
The falling blood flowed precisely onto the soil inside a flowerpot. Ripples spread across the blood already pooled there, and each time the accumulated blood receded by one millimeter, the rose growing in the pot grew by one millimeter. Red teeth were clustered thickly along its bud.
“What a beautiful creature.”
Drip.
Rairie spoke as she snapped off a single rose. Ian was about to rise from his seat when he noticed the transparent stream of water gripping his ankle and stopped moving.
Liquid shackles that tightened all the more fiercely the more strength he put into resisting.
He could remove them if he tried, but at the very least, now was not the time to act on emotion. To break through the situation safely, he needed to remain calm.
As for the safety of the companions he had left behind… it would be a lie to say he was not worried, but at present there was nothing he could do. Still, they had three veteran agents and three mages with them, so their chances of survival should be high.
If not, then that was unfortunate.
He had no intention of blaming himself just because the outcome of something beyond his control turned out badly. For now, dealing with Rairie came first.
Ian exhaled slowly and switched the grimoire he held so he could defend himself at any moment. Records of the Deep Sea went into his coat pocket, and the Book of Contracts was summoned above his leg, revealing itself. The Book of Contracts appeared with a clanking sound, pressing heavily down on the air in every direction.
“Hmmm.”
Rairie’s eyes narrowed. Part of her rotted flesh failed to withstand the movement of her muscles and tore away.
“As expected, that is the book of someone still young. I can smell a faint milky scent.”
“A mere aberration calls a god that?”
“A mere aberration… There is a flaw in that phrasing.”
Rairie sat down in a chair. Then, with a gentle smile, she moved her fingers through the air.
Clatter.
Petals scattered in the direction her fingertips moved. They soon became teacups and a teapot, settling on the table. The petals pooled inside the teapot turned into blood and covered the surface.
“I am human. No, to be precise, I suppose it would be correct to call me one who was human. Even so, I still consider myself human. Yes, it is not exactly an incorrect description.”
“…Are you trying to say you became an aberration from a human?”
“You do not seem to understand words very well. I said I am human. Please refrain from using that strange term, aberration.”
“Bullshit. An aberration is an aberration. There’s nothing wrong with that proposition.”
“Do you not value your life?”
“Do you understand that it wouldn’t be strange for you to die right now either?”
Ian tapped the grimoire with his finger.
Clatter.
The iron chain attached to the end of the grimoire lengthened and swiftly wound around Rairie’s ankle. Rairie’s movements came to a sudden halt, and she stared at Ian with even greater interest than before.
“…How fascinating. You can use not magic, but even the grimoire’s supplementary abilities? Just how high is your compatibility?”
“Do I have to tell you?”
“Would you be able to?”
“I don’t feel like it.”
Crack!
Ian twisted the grimoire slightly. At the same time, Rairie’s rotting ankle twisted as well, crushing bone and flesh.
The shattered organs scattered finely and fell to the floor, while flowers bloomed from the severed ankle, melted into blood, and vanished.
“Such vulgar speech. And yet even that has its charm.”
Rairie stared blankly at her missing ankle, then smiled brightly, pulled out one of the roses stuck in her hair, and pressed it against the ankle. The petals became flesh, the stem became bone, and a new ankle formed.
A bizarre method of regeneration.
She folded her hands neatly together. The sharp stench of blood and the scent of roses wafted out at the same time.
“You serve as many as three gods while maintaining your sanity. And you can even use the grimoire’s own abilities… You are no ordinary apostle. No, to begin with, there is no way three gods would bestow power upon the exact same person.”
“…Apostle?”
“It refers to people like you, mage.”
Rairie said this as she lifted the teapot and filled a teacup to the brim with blood.
“An existence chosen by a god. Those selected for their amusement. That is an apostle.”
“…”
“Any creature designated as an apostle has all their ways of thinking culminate in faith toward their god. In human terms, I suppose it would be correct to say they go mad.”
“That doesn’t apply to me.”
“That is why I find it fascinating.”
She took a sip of blood and stirred the blood-red liquid with a teaspoon.
“To put it plainly, your current state is extremely unusual. Despite having been chosen by as many as three gods, you have not a shred of faith. Logically, it should be impossible for you to converse with me like this.”
“I am rather far removed from logic.”
“It is not something so laughable that you can put it so simply. A mere human, one that lives barely a hundred years at best, enduring the rank of a god? Do you think that should be possible?”
“It seems it is.”
Ian snorted and lifted the teacup made for him. Then he threw it straight to the floor.
Rustle.
The cup made of petals did not break, but instead scattered in every direction and formed a puddle of blood. Rairie tilted her head as she watched.
“Faith is not something one can endure just because one tries. And if another faith coexists on top of that, there is nothing the human ego can do except shatter. Endure? Could a trained human withstand the weight of a whale? It is impossible from the start.”
“You’ve been making me repeat myself for a while now.”
“Yes, because it is that fascinating. Truthfully, I feel like examining your mental state right this instant. I want to tear open your head myself, then read each fold of your brain one by one as I lick and savor the existence known as you.”
“…”
“But that is impossible. You said it yourself, did you not? That if you wished, you could kill me at any time. Yes, that is true. No matter how strong I may be, if you use your power, something like me is no more than an insect. Even struggling would be meaningless.”
“Knowing that, you brought me here?”
“Knowing that, I brought you here.”
Brightly.
Rairie smiled and crossed her legs. A piece of rotted flesh dangled and fell to the floor.
“You are not an apostle, mage. But if so, then what are you? What are you to the gods? A toy? A doll? A plaything? A pet?”
“They called me their husband.”
Ian answered immediately. He leaned back against the chair and stared at Rairie with an expressionless face. Rairie blinked.
“Pardon?”
“I must have filled out the marriage registration without knowing it. It has no effect on Earth, but it seems it does in the universe.”
“…Ha, jokes become unpleasant when taken too far.”
“Does it sound like a joke? Then let’s say it’s a joke.”
“…You.”
She furrowed her brow. Ian leaned his upper body forward.
“Shut up. I’ve played along with you enough. Now it’s my turn to ask questions. Just answer what I ask, aberration.”
“…The gods’ husband? Their spouse, you mean? A human? A mere human? An insect?”
“Tell me why you brought me here. And explain how you saw through my grimoires and figured out which Outer Gods each grimoire is connected to.”
Ian spoke as he turned the pages of the grimoire. Rairie’s lips trembled with a dazed expression.
“How is that possible? Gods should have no sexual desire. They are perfect yet imperfect, gods yet not gods, beings neither benevolent nor merciful.”
“I’ll count to three. If you don’t answer by then, I’ll blow your head apart.”
“This is a case I have never seen, not even in my submerged city. Would there be records left in the library? If it is my homeland sleeping beneath the Atlantic, perhaps…”
“One.”
“A god is sexless. Beings all the more perfect because they are not perfect. A contradiction. The goddess of denial. Because she denies everything in this world, she is a god. And they chose love? A laughable story. A story not even worthy of a third-rate novel.”
“Two.”
Ian changed grimoires. Records of the Deep Sea settled once more in his grasp, and the black letters engraved upon the pure-white pages overflowed, calling seawater onto the floor. It devoured greedily the transparent water binding Ian’s ankle.
[Aaaaaaaaaah!!!]
A scream of something came from beyond the blood-red window.
He ignored it. Ian stared only at Rairie as his lips moved.
“Three.”
“Just what are you to them?”
Crunch!
The overflowing outer sea gathered like a hammer and smashed Rairie’s head apart. Rotten flesh, bone, and brain sprayed in every direction. The body that had lost its head collapsed limply, and Ian clicked his tongue as he rose.
“Stupid bitch. You won’t even spit out information.”
“You like information, I see.”
“…!”
At the voice that suddenly came from behind him, Ian’s body froze with a jolt.
A voice that should not have been heard. Rairie’s voice, whose head should have just been smashed apart, came from the flowerpot behind him.
Ian grimaced and backed away, and from the bud of a rose in full bloom, Rairie’s enormous body crawled out like a fetus.
“Phew, I apologize for that just now. To think that I, a librarian, would lose my reason even for a moment simply because I heard something I did not expect. I am still lacking in skill.”
Covered head to toe in blood, reborn without a single wound, she smiled brightly as she watched Ian’s startled expression.
“Were you surprised?”
“…You.”
“As I said, you can kill me as many times as you wish. It is fully possible with the power you used just now as well. The sea of death. Magic that controls the outer sea embedded within the grimoire. A basic spell that can be operated with sheer mental strength alone, without any incantation or magic circle. And for that very reason, an ability with an equally heavy cost.”
She plucked one rose embedded in her hair, swallowed it, and exhaled. That breath soon became black roses and formed a dress.
“You cannot use it indiscriminately. Am I right? A price must always be paid.”
“…”
“In the end, even if it is the power of an Outer God, as long as it takes the form of magic, its limits are clear. I know that better than anyone. In truth, you are having trouble even standing properly right now, aren’t you? You are forcibly pretending to be fine, but your headache must be rather severe.”
She was right. But Ian did not let it show, and exhaled as he gripped the grimoire tightly.
“What is your objective?”
“Conversation. This is my first time seeing a human who reeks so heavily of the gods like you, so I wanted to have a deep conversation with you. There is also someone I would like to introduce to you.”
“…Introduce?”
When Ian asked, Rairie smiled gently. But the corners of her mouth drooped downward.
“Ahh, I envy you.”
“…What?”
“One loved by the gods! One wrapped from head to toe in their favor! And therefore, one who has not gone mad, but remains perfectly alive!”
“…What are you suddenly—”
“Do you not think it is unfair somehow?”
Click.
Rairie took one step toward Ian. But there was no sound of footsteps. Only the sound of her neck bending ninety degrees and her bones breaking rang out intensely.
“Some of us betrayed our homeland simply because we were chosen by a god, and became like this.”
“…”
“Why is the mercy of the gods granted only to you? What about me? Me? Why me? Why me? Why? Why did I have to kill my family with these hands, kill my king, kill the nobles, and sink my city into the water?”
“Crazy bitch.”
Ian narrowed his eyes and turned the pages of the grimoire. Then, placing a piece of the aberration’s flesh atop the magic circle engraved on the page, he took one step back.
“Fire. Her mercy has reached all mankind. My heart and body belong to her.”
“Ahh, even the incantation is filled with love. That must be the magic permitted to you—”
Crunch!
The anchor of the outer sea shot forth and obliterated Rairie’s body without a trace.
At the same time, Rairie was reborn from the remaining flowers.
“—or so it seems. How beautiful it is. And yet why was that beauty not granted to me?”
“…What a nuisance.”
An ability that let her be born again and again, no matter how many times she was killed. Ian decided he might as well deal with the flowers first, drew his revolver, and aimed the muzzle at the roses.
Just then, Rairie spoke in a voice tinged with laughter.
“My homeland, my city, my country. Ah, R’lyeh. A place whose very name was violated by a god’s play and lost even its original form.”
R’lyeh.
A place-name that could never simply be heard and passed over had sprung from her lips. Ian’s eyes turned vicious as he glared at Rairie.
“……R’lyeh?”
Ordinarily, it was not a name he should have had any reason to overreact to.
After all, was it not merely the name of a city that appeared in a work of fiction?
The sunken city described in Lovecraft’s Cthulhu Mythos, R’lyeh. That was all there was to it.
But Ian knew that there existed a grimoire of an Outer God related to R’lyeh.
Its name was—
“The Submersion of R’lyeh.”
Rairie laughed.
Her head, twisted all the way around, tore free and fell to the floor, and within the corpse she was newly conceived, only to rip through the womb and be born again.
“My homeland. My world. Reduced to a god’s playground, where even the grimoire’s name was made as though to mock the city’s fall.”
“……You.”
“Allow me to introduce myself once more.”
Rairie lightly pinched the hem of her skirt between her fingers and gave Ian an elegant curtsy.
“My name is Rairie. One who was named so. The administrator of this art museum, and the sole Creator’s understander. Agonizer. Assistant. And a flowerbed, a flower, a vase without water. A propagator of beauty and a survivor of the sunken city. One who receives His grace. A puppet. A doll.”
“…….”
“And also a traitor and a butcher. A slaughterer. A witch. The librarian of the library. The chosen one. One reduced to a plaything. A magician. A prophet. A noble. And an apostle. In the end, a nanny forced to cast off the mask of humanity and protect the next successor. One made so by force.”
Bloody tears streamed from her eyes.
“The one who first possessed the grimoire, [The Submersion of R’lyeh]. The one who used it to violate the city’s name into ‘R’lyeh,’ and passed it down as such to later generations. The one who brainwashed the Creator. One defiled. One who lost her true name and fell to being nothing more than Rairie.”
And—
“A ‘human’ who hates you, beloved by gods, with all her heart.”
She bowed her head, clutching the pendant around her neck tightly in her hand.
“Rairie. To you, who serve as many as three gods, I offer my sincere greetings and condolences.”
May you, too, fall and be corrupted, just as I have.
Adding those words, she smiled brightly. Ian stared at her in silence for a moment, then switched grimoires with a sneer.
“So you were a fucking loser.”