“Are you saying you will pass all your memories on to a child named Ailights?”
Having regained some measure of calm, Rifue once again sat lightly upon the chair.
Venus remained as composed as ever.
“That much won’t be possible, but I do intend to teach him, at least, why we are vanishing.”
“Impossible. Lady Beltesia would never allow it, and I, too, am opposed to that much.”
“Your opposition means nothing, and Beltesia is… irritating. She was merely born first, yet she acts as though she knows everything.”
“Everything has a reason. It is precisely because she is Lady Beltesia that she was born first and built this world.”
“So what. Be quiet.”
Rifue, pure white from head to toe, looked at this unruly goddess drenched entirely in vivid crimson.
With her two eyes still closed, she gazed at Venus—perhaps at Ailights—and let out a small sigh.
“Venus, why are we choosing to vanish in the first place?”
“Because of the power that has accumulated far too greatly.”
“Correct. Due to the nature of Beltesia’s divine space, the longer we remain there, the stronger our souls and bodies become.”
“Even among the countless transcendents of the universe, we’re a group strong enough to be counted on one’s fingers.”
“Yes. And the one who made that possible was Lady Beltesia.”
“…I don’t like it, but that’s true.”
Venus sat in a delinquent posture, her fair, beautiful legs stretched out upon the table as if to show them off.
And yet, far from seeming vulgar, she appeared elegant and alluring—truly worthy of being called the goddess of love.
Beside such a Venus, Rifue sat with both hands neatly folded atop her knees and opened her mouth.
“Ever since the very first war, we have been at peace for an excessively long time. During that time, countless new gods were born, and the mere fact that the accumulated power has been kept under control is Lady Beltesia’s miracle.”
“That damned Beltesia… In any case, because of that, the Abyss, too, grew in power to a degree similar to ours. It is the law of nature.”
“Correct. That is why Lady Beltesia intends to return all transcendent things to nothingness, and all of us agreed. We loved our world, did we not?”
At the way Rifue placed emphasis on the word “loved,” Venus curled up one corner of her mouth with a faint snort.
“Well, it’s laughable to hear creatures who don’t even know love speak of love, but it’s true that everyone did love it.”
“After a great deal of time passed, all of us came to understand. We tried to protect our world with overwhelming power, but that only invited even greater danger.”
“And I never much cared for meddling in everything under the pretext of love.”
“Correct.”
Rifue agreed with Venus and smiled gently.
The two goddesses, famous for constantly bickering, were strangely in perfect accord.
“To that end, there is something that must be prioritized above all else.”
“Kill all dragons.”
“Their semi-transcendent power does not suit a world without gods. Their unconditional obsession with protection is unnatural as well.”
“Even if we choose to vanish, if the dragons remain, they will take the role of gods in our stead.”
“Yes. And even in the process of killing the dragons, we must not intervene. Our intervention would create yet another side effect.”
In other words, the mutual destruction of the gods and the Abyss had been the gods’ plan from the very beginning.
So that the world they loved would not sway with a single gesture from transcendents.
So that it might escape the embrace of the gods, develop and grow among its own people, and become even stronger.
That was why they had chosen a world where gods did not exist.
Because they knew there were no gods, they had brought to their world those who would not depend on gods.
“Do you understand? I know what you intend by leaving your memories behind, Venus, but that is far too deep an intervention. I am saying we cannot predict what new variable it might create.”
“I know that well enough. The greatest variable in the plan we made is none other than us.”
It was a plan established by all the gods together, after examining not only countless futures and paths of choice, but even the branches extending from them.
Even so, nothing could be guaranteed.
Among futures numbering in the hundreds of billions, they could not determine which one was the correct answer.
Even if they were gods who had lived for eons.
At best, they could arrange things for the most hopeful future.
And if they intervened any further here, no one knew what other variable might arise.
“And yet you still say you will leave memories behind?”
“Yes.”
“Why? Though you know everything and understand it all, why do you insist on increasing the uncertainty of the future?”
“Why, you ask.”
Venus looked at Rifue and smiled brightly.
It was an expression Ailights could not see, but perhaps it was the most lovely smile in the world.
“What reason is there in love?”
Still smiling, Venus tilted her head back and looked up at the sky.
There was a sky here, too.
“What certainty is there in love?”
She gently stroked down her own vivid crimson hair.
“Love.”
Though Rifue was present, she spoke as if in monologue.
“Child, please love beautifully.”
Rifue said nothing.
“Do not give your everything, but love as though you would give everything.”
Only then did Ailights realize.
“But it will not be easy. Many things will happen, and many hardships will harshly block your path. A dark future in which no answer can be seen at all may await you.”
Venus’s words were not directed at Rifue.
“When that time comes, do not hesitate. Everything you do is love. It is the miracle that makes the impossible possible.”
They were words disguised as a monologue, offered to someone else.
“It may be anger, or it may be joy. It may be obsession, or unease, or…”
Only Rifue sat across from Venus, but the words were not meant for Rifue.
Then there was only one possibility left.
“It may be sacrifice.”
Words Venus spoke directly to Ailights.
Her final advice.
“If that is truly what you wish to do, then do it. Only, do not hesitate, and do not regret. Love with all your might.”
Her warm sincerity, her heartfelt concern, rang vividly in his heart through the memories.
“Would that not be enough?”
Having finished speaking, Venus quietly closed her eyes and sank deep into her chair.
Just as she was about to fall into that pleasant silence.
“Are you finished?”
At Rifue’s voice, suddenly heard, she had no choice but to open her eyes again at once, with a coy look.
“Finished with what? I was just muttering to myself.”
“Yes. Of course. At any rate, I played along as you wished, Venus.”
“What do you mean, as I wished…”
“Were you not using a shallow trick to compress as much information as possible into the memory, while pretending to quarrel moderately and exchange opinions?”
Venus lowered her legs from the table and awkwardly let her eyes wander.
“…Nope?”
“…Pfft.”
At the sight of Venus, who was abysmal at lying, Rifue laughed aloud, a rare occurrence.
“Don’t laugh. If you’re going to laugh, at least open your eyes and laugh.”
“You know I cannot do that.”
The grass in the painting beneath the two goddesses’ feet began to tremble faintly.
Thud—
It was Rifue’s space, so it should not have shaken, nor was it allowed to—but the earth began to tremble.
“Venus, you tried. What kind of new future your efforts have brought about… I am terribly curious to see the result.”
“We’ll all be dead before that, though.”
The little birds from the fairy tale flew away in alarm, and even the painted sun slowly began to shift its place.
As if something enormous were approaching, the thudding tremors grew larger and larger.
Soon, a faint shadow began to fall over the two goddesses seated across from each other.
“And besides, these memories themselves may not be conveyed at all.”
“Then there’s nothing to be done.”
This was something that should not be possible.
A shadow in a divine space filled only with light.
It was impossible.
Unless it belonged to one being alone.
Unless it belonged to the first god, who had created a shadow for herself because her light was far too strong.
“You have become quite dignified, Venus.”
“…What did I do?”
“In the past, you would already have leapt from your seat and started a fight by now.”
“…Would I? Well, she will judge for herself. Whether to convey this or not.”
Thud—with one final tremor, the earth fell into stillness.
Upon it, Rifue leisurely lifted her teacup.
Venus, too, rested her arm on the chair beside her and raised her head to look upward.
Then she could see them.
“That oh-so-great Beltesia, I mean.”
The two eyes of a giant shining in five colors.
The center of those rapturous eyes, holding the universe within them.
Venus’s gaze met the dazzling, five-colored eyes.
The eyes of the most radiant god met Ailights’s small pupils.
And then.
“…Hah!”
Ailights’s eyes flew open.
Together with a crimson light that had grown even deeper.
* * *
On the top floor of the Magic Tower, there is a path leading to the Abyss.
No, it is not certain whether it truly is a path leading to the Abyss, but in any case, I have found a clue.
This was a harvest far greater than expected.
But the memories had not ended.
That must mean there was still more to gain.
Why had Kreutzwald tried to make Abelard into a god?
If he had seen the exact future, he should have prepared not to take Abelard, but Hio.
How had the suicide corps been formed, and what became of them in the end?
There had clearly been movement at the end of the world to help Hio.
Though he had not received their help, had he not seen Abelard and the other mages just before escaping?
Then the final question.
How had they managed to survive at the end of the world until now?
The Kreutzwald of that time in the memories had already been monstrous enough, but the current Kreutzwald had even become the master of the Abyss.
Before such a Kreutzwald, numbers held no meaning.
Unless they possessed power on a level similar to his, whether seven gathered or seventy gathered, they were no different from zero before him.
Then did Abelard possess power on a level similar to Kreutzwald’s?
For now, that seemed the most plausible guess, but honestly, it was hard to imagine and hard to understand.
If they possessed similar power, they would have clashed long ago, and a conclusion would have been reached.
Yet how could the two of them have opposed each other for a thousand years?
No, were they coexisting?
I had to find out why.
‘…Kreutzwald.’
Within Abelard’s gaze, Kreutzwald smiled with satisfaction.
The former Tower Master stained by the Abyss, Kreutzwald, who had subdued a dragon and displayed it proudly on the top floor of the Magic Tower.
What had he been plotting here?
What had he sought to obtain through Abelard?
‘Abelard Pavlenko.’
Whatever Kreutzwald’s true intentions were, Abelard was, for the moment, completely absorbed in the dragon before his eyes.
As Kreutzwald personally conveyed information about the Abyss to him, he must have been unable to contain his curiosity toward the enchanting body of the dragon and the endlessly mysterious power of the Abyss.
‘What truth were you hiding?’
Kreutzwald’s low voice, telling him of the war with the Abyss that would soon occur, rang out softly.
Along with it, Abelard’s movements as he observed the dragon grew increasingly busy.
Time flowed onward once more.
“The time has come.”
The story began racing toward its end.