Ian took Mariang with him and went inside the house first. When he turned on the light in the dark living room, the bleak yet spacious space was brightly illuminated.
"Wow...."
Amelia exclaimed at the living room, much larger than she had imagined, and slowly moved her steps. Ian left her alone, took off his coat and threw it onto the sofa, then took out a large bottle of coffee from the fridge and came back.
"So."
Cold air wafted from the plastic bottle.
He sat on the sofa, took out the three cups placed on the table, and poured the coffee with a gurgle.
Mariang sat in the seat opposite him. Seeing her neatly arranging her dress with elegant movements, Amelia also seated herself next to Ian, imitating her as best she could.
"What's the reason you came suddenly without contacting me? It's too abrupt of a visit."
"I had no means to contact you. You never gave me your contact information."
"......Did I?"
"You did."
Mariang blatantly showed she was sulking and took a sip of the coffee. It was just ordinary instant coffee sold in markets, but she put down the cup with a rather pleased expression.
"The reason I came is nothing special. To inform you of the order handed down from Laplace, and to tell you about Irene's whereabouts."
"......Straight to the point."
"You prefer that too, Master."
She was right. He slid a cup of coffee toward Amelia, then raised his own cup and leaned his upper body slightly forward.
"I'll hear the order later. Tell me Irene's whereabouts first."
"Understood. Currently, Irene is staying in a city called Gimhae in Gyeongsangnam-do."
"......Gimhae? Not the Gyeonggi-do region?"
"Yes. Two weeks ago, Seoul. One week ago, Incheon. Three days ago, Daejeon. Yesterday, Daegu. And now, Gimhae. Quite a free-spirited route, isn't it?"
*Glug.*
After wetting her throat once with the coffee, she glanced sidelong at Amelia, then leaned back against the backrest and continued.
"Finding her route was a coincidence. During the Twilight Hour the other day. While I was reverse-hunting the hunters there, I ran into her in Daejeon."
"......"
"But Irene and I aren't that close. Even if I wanted information, if I suddenly ran up to her acting friendly, I'd only cause unnecessary misunderstandings. So we only exchanged light conversation."
"Where?"
"There was an apostate monk who had set up in Daejeon during the festival period. An Indian who didn't know his place and attacked first, so I tracked him back instead and killed him. Irene seemed to be there for something similar; we met at his hideout."
Apostate monk.
Ian thought pointlessly of the stereotypical monk often mocked in online communities and listened to her words. Amelia, unable to follow the flow of conversation, simply watched the two's moods and sipped her coffee.
"It's not common for Irene to personally visit the scene. But judging by her expression, I think the apostate monk said something about her paintings or art activities. Irene can tolerate anything else, but she absolutely cannot stand people insulting her work."
"......Is that bastard Austrian?"
"I know what you're getting at, but she's Greek. She's not the type to want to start a war because she failed art school."
Mariang let out a hollow laugh and crossed her legs. Her pale leg, long since regenerated, gleamed under the electric light.
"Anyway. After dealing with the apostate monk, when we talked, she said she was traveling around all of Korea following Walter's orders. Fortunately, she told me her next destination was Gimhae, so I could pinpoint her current location, but it's highly likely she'll disappear to another place by tomorrow."
"In short, it's hard to pin down her location. Understood."
In response to Ian's words, Mariang didn't reply but merely smiled and looked down at the cup of coffee in her hand.
"Currently, the number of paintings Irene has drawn in Korea is 20 in total. 15 of them have been used for magic, and the rest she drew in a small notebook to use for protection. Since she has a personality that likes to show off her works, she told me this even though I didn't ask."
"......By protection?"
"She shows the drawing during combat and kills the opponent as depicted in the picture. If she pre-loads sacrifices and internalizes them into the painting, it's not a difficult thing to make it instantaneous. Ah, and for reference, it's also possible to transfer injuries she received onto the drawing to heal them."
"......She does all sorts of things with a single drawing. Where on earth did she learn magic like that?"
"I don't really know that far. She probably learned it from a similar lunatic, or made it herself."
Ian clicked his tongue and took out a cigarette, placing it between his lips.
Since it was a detached house, and he didn't need to worry about the smell of tobacco seeping in anyway, he lit it without hesitation.
A sweet fragrance slowly spread along with the smoke. He watched the burning ember for a moment to catch his breath, then exhaled a plume of smoke and fixed his gaze on Mariang.
"Is Irene's goal still the grimoire of an Outer God?"
"Yes. She's been searching for information diligently."
"Hmm......"
"I suggested accompanying her, but she lightly dismissed me. She said she'd rather focus on her art alone than go with a cannibal like you. Walter had told us to move together, but she doesn't seem to have any intention of following."
"Is that allowed?"
"Walter's orders aren't absolute. As long as they don't offend his sensibilities, he doesn't even care about excessive deviations."
"What a crazy bunch."
"What more do you expect from a terror group?"
Mariang shrugged her shoulders and drained the rest of the coffee. The nearly empty cup, with only a few brown droplets remaining, was placed back on the table.
"It will probably take at least one week, or at most two weeks, for Irene to return to the Gyeonggi-do area. Considering she's busily traveling around while also engaging in art activities, that isn't such a slow speed. It's more correct to say it's fast."
"So we have some time."
"That's right. And to add, Irene's magic doesn't leave any trace at all, so it's not easy to track her. You'd probably need the painting that's the medium of her magic to even begin tracking her."
"......Understood for now. More importantly, what's the order from Laplace?"
The existence of a watercolor painting stuffed away in a warehouse flashed through his mind, but he didn't bother informing Mariang of it. Instead, he quickly changed the subject as if he knew nothing. Fortunately, Mariang answered Ian's question without much suspicion.
"The order...... Honestly, it's a bit ambiguous to even call it an order. If I had to be precise, it would be more correct to call it an operational guideline."
"......A guideline."
"Master, do you happen to know anything about the current executives in Laplace?"
At her question, Ian shook his head.
"Not particularly. The only Laplace magicians I've met so far are you and Eddie."
"Hmm, neither Eddie nor I are actually executives. We're more like hired freelancers? The real executives are composed solely of people who subscribe to Walter's ideology."
*Click.*
Mariang ran her finger along the handle of the empty cup for no reason and spoke with a serious expression.
"Walter wants the ascension of the world. Should I say he wants the planet Earth to become one dimension stronger?"
"......."
"An Earth where all mystical powers including faith and magic grow stronger while ordinary people die mercilessly instead. And if this happens, it becomes much easier for higher-dimensional beings to intervene."
"......Higher-dimensional beings? Are you talking about Outer Gods?"
"Precisely, that includes the beings under their command as well."
"......."
Ian suddenly recalled the creatures of the abyss created directly by the Ruler of the Outer Seas.
Surprising as it may be, the monsters inhabiting the black abyssal waters are not children the Outer God had borne from its own womb in suffering. If forced to compare, it was like clay dolls shaped by hand that had souls breathed into them. Meaning it had created life as a creator.
And was the Ruler of the Outer Seas truly the only Outer God in the universe capable of this?
"Currently, Earth would find it difficult to endure if beings like Cthulhu were to descend. It wouldn't be immediate destruction, but it would slowly perish. However, if the world ascends one dimension higher, they could be repelled by magic, superpowers, or the power of faith. Driving them back wouldn't be a mere pipe dream either."
"......."
"Gods would be demoted to the level of mere monsters."
Mariang continued her explanation, using what she fancied to be technical terms as if she'd read some fantasy novel.
"Currently, Earth is a Low Power setting. No matter how strong a magician, if they waged all-out war openly against an army, they couldn't endure and would die. Of course, a very small number might win, but on average, that's how it is."
"......."
"But the moment the world ascends one dimension higher, the world becomes a High Power setting. Restrictions on magic disappear, so the upper limit of spells would be erased; superpowers would change into something like divine authorities; and faith would bestow immortal bodies upon believers. If that happens, it becomes impossible to catch people like us with modern means. Conversely, we would become able to overthrow gods we couldn't even resist until now."
Mariang clicked her tongue as if dissatisfied and wiggled her toes. A faint apricot-colored light spread across her white knee-high socks.
"Walter plans to hunt gods like this, then make the world even higher-dimensional once more to finally hunt even true Outer Gods. That is his ultimate goal, and the true purpose of Laplace."
*
Hunting gods.
It was an incredibly abstract and pedantic story to the point of sounding absurd, but according to Walter's claims, it wasn't impossible.
Every time the world ascended a step, mystical powers grew exponentially, so since the world grew stronger, it wouldn't be a difficult thing to kill aberrations that didn't grow stronger equally, like slaughtering beasts.
Setting aside how he proved that, it was simply the thought process of a madman from the start.
The very notion of hunting gods was something that could never come from an absolutely normal mind.
The human resources consumed to reach that point, worlds destroyed by rampaging aberrations during the process, and the deaths of ordinary people, etc. How could it be normal to ignore everything that should be considered and have eyes only for the hunt?
'I knew he was a crazy bastard, but he was something even worse than that.'
Ian let out a deep sigh and tapped his cigarette against a portable ashtray. He was actively indulging in the worst possible combination of coffee and cigarettes in real time, but since it wasn't an actual cigarette anyway, it didn't really matter.
He put the half-remaining cigarette back between his lips and asked Mariang,
"I understand the goal well, so what is this new operational guideline?"
"It's nothing grand. Just to let them know if we find out about other Outer Gods' grimoires, and that massacres within a level we can handle are fine. No, to be exact, they are encouraging it. This is also why Irene has no qualms about using magic since she entered Korea."
"The more I hear, the more they sound like crazy bastards. Are you going around killing people like Irene too?"
"No. Since you saved me, Master, I haven't laid a hand on civilians."
"That's fine then."
Ian let out a sigh and rose from his seat. Having sat in the same posture for a long time, his entire body was stiff.
When he stretched once, power returned to the joints that had declared a strike. He rotated his wrist, which made a cracking sound, and spoke to Mariang.
"Thanks for letting me know. Since you're here, eat before you go. Even if it's just delivery."
"I don't mind. But Master, is it alright if I contact you once a day when I'm bored from now on?"
"As long as it's not excessive or in the early morning, I don't care."
"Heh."
Mariang smiled broadly and kicked her legs back and forth. Ian left her behind, ordered two chickens, and brought over a box that had been lying at the front door.
A revolver ordered from the Cartel. Feeling its heavy weight, he opened the box, and a sleek silver barrel revealed itself.
For now it was in an ordinary form, but they had said customization was possible if he stopped by the Cartel firearms shop. He figured he'd take it there sooner or later.
He had heard that the remodeling costs were vicious, but with a large sum sitting in his bank account, there shouldn’t be any problem splurging for a while.
Clatter.
He put the revolver away in the study, then turned to Amelia and gave her a gentle smile.
“Let’s go, Amelia. I’ll show you to your room.”
“Ah, yes!”
Amelia followed Ian’s lead up to the second floor.
On the second floor, there was a room that had been left empty for guests. The basic interior was already all in place, so there would be no issue with using it starting today.
“You can decorate it however you like. As for money, well, once you make a bank account, I’ll put in about a hundred million won for now. I can bill Eric for it later.”
“Ah, money is fine! Grandfather said he’d give me a little every month. The paperwork has already been taken care of too, so I don’t need to go to school. I finished all the basic education ages ago anyway. Hehe.”
Amelia smiled shyly. Ian inwardly clicked his tongue at the thoroughness of a mage family and nodded.
“That’s a relief, then. Leave your bag here and come on. I’ll show you the other rooms too.”
“Yes!”
Ian showed her the locations of every facility in the house—the study, his bedroom, the kitchen, the restroom, the bathroom, and so on. Clearly, so there would be no chance of her getting confused.
After showing her most of the rooms, he returned to the front of the study and spoke.
“The study is a place where I sometimes sit and read grimoires, so if you’re going to use it, knock first. If there’s no answer, you can come in.”
“Got it.”
“As for magic… I’ll start teaching you the basic common sense and the like from tomorrow. Becoming a mage comes first anyway. Does the grimoire say anything separately about how to become a mage? I don’t remember writing anything like that.”
“It’s not in the grimoire. But I learned it from Grandfather, so I do know all of it.”
Amelia looked up at Ian with eyes full of resolve.
“Ah, for the next month, I have to spend time getting close to the four elements, right?”
“Right. The first week will be the biggest hurdle. Starting tomorrow, you’ll have to eat dirt for all three meals, so brace yourself. You can’t eat anything else.”
“Y-yes? Dirt? What are you talking about?”
Amelia blinked in bewilderment. Ian wore a similar expression.
“…You said you knew, didn’t you? You have to learn the earth element first for a mage’s body to be completed.”
“N-no, I know that. But dirt? I was told I just needed to eat crops grown in farmland made with the help of earth spirits—gnomes, I mean. I’ve never heard anything about eating dirt.”
“…What… did you say?”
“G-Grandfather even packed things like potatoes and cherry tomatoes for me to eat during that period…”
“…”
Ian’s eyelids trembled. As if Amelia had realized something, she stared at him with pity and fidgeted with her fingers.
“…Did you perhaps eat it? Dirt?”
To preserve his dignity as a master, Ian kept his mouth firmly shut without answering. That served as an even clearer answer, and Amelia let out a sorrowful sigh.
“…How did you endure a whole week eating only that?”
“…I don’t know either.”
For some reason, it felt as though the taste of dirt was spreading through his mouth, so Ian squeezed his eyes shut and exhaled for a long time.
‘Those insane mage noble bastards. They were sharing this kind of information only among themselves?’
From somewhere deep in Ian’s heart, hatred for those families suddenly began to surge.
He was itching for a “France.”